Reality Hack

By Niall Teasdale

Copyright 2015 Niall Teasdale

Amazon Kindle Edition

Contents

Part One: Rabbit Hole

Part Two: Faline

Part Three: The City Of Shadows

Part Four: Demon

Part Five: Alchemy

Part Six: The Real World

Part Seven: The Skin We’re In

Part Eight: When Everything Changes

Epilogue

Part One: Rabbit Hole

Tower Hamlets, London, June 6th, 2014.

Nisa sat staring at the ball of light in her hand, her eyes wide in surprise and glee. It seemed to move, coruscating slowly as if it were some powerful, contained fusion reaction, but it was not hot, or even warm. And she had made it, created it out of nothing, just a few seconds earlier. She sat on the floor of her one-bedroomed flat, lost in the rapture of the thing she had made.

It had taken her weeks to learn to make the light, a process of trial and error, and a little knowledge Spike had found on one of his trawls through the internet. Reality Hacking. That was what the text had called it, Reality Hacking. It was the art, or discipline, certainly not a science, of making reality do what you wanted through sheer will power. There had been some descriptions of mental exercises to work through and some ideas on what could be done, and that had been about it. What had set them all trying to copy it was that the site it had been on had vanished a couple of days later and Spike had been unable to dig up anything about the people who had created it or what had happened to it.

‘It’s the MIBs,’ Spike had told them, nodding sagely.

‘You think everything’s the MIBs,’ Wallace had replied, ‘except when it’s the Government, or the Greys, or the Vampire Conclave.’

‘That,’ Spike had replied, ‘is because it is.’

Wallace had scoffed until Jenna had told him to shut up, but by the end of the evening the little group of five had become ‘The Reality Hackers’ and had vowed to make the magic work. As far as they could see, it was magic. Not witchcraft, or Harry Potter wizardry, or Gandalf-style wisdom… Maybe it had a bit of the Eddings ‘Will and Word’ about it. Lena had adored David Eddings’s books and she liked that idea. Whatever you compared it to, it was magic, and Nisa had just done it.

After maybe ten minutes the light collapsed in on itself and vanished. She was a little disappointed that there had not been a pop when it went, but her glee at getting the spell to work at all overrode that. Straightening her back, she looked across the, now dark, room to the glowing digits of her clock. Eight-twelve. It was time to get ready and go out to Black Light.

She did her make-up at the small dressing table under the window first. Plenty of kohl and shadow, to make her already angular eyes appear more cat-like. Then she used a brush to paint in a vine leaf pattern over her temples and cheekbones. The kohl pencil came back out to twist vines out from the corners of her extended eyes. Finally the lipstick, a fairly subtle shade tonight, but still enough to redden her full lips.

Satisfied, she went to the small wardrobe beside the bedroom door and took out her outfit for the night. She had pieced it together over a couple of months because the shoes and shorts in particular had not been cheap, but she felt it was worth it. The shorts were tight around her behind, high-waisted, and made of glossy leather. The shoes were high-heeled clogs with metal around the sole, black leather with a red flame pattern appliquéd to the upper surface. Her top was short, sleeveless, and black, glossy Lycra, with a V-shaped insert of mesh at the front. She was not over-endowed with bust, but this showed off what she had nicely. Together with some purposefully laddered fishnet hold-up stockings, the ensemble gave a bit of a punk feel, sexy punk. Nisa definitely felt sexy when she was dressed up in her club outfit, and sometimes you needed that.

It was warm out, somewhere over twenty and still light. Grabbing her bag on the way through the small lounge with its single sofa and small flat-screen TV, Nisa headed out of the flat to the lift at the end of the corridor and down twenty storeys to the lobby.

There were three of the Queens hanging around outside the door of the tower. Three thickly muscled women in cropped T-shirts. Two in jeans, one in shorts. All of them had the same look about them: self-assured, arrogant, absolutely sure that they owned the street. Nisa knew them by sight if not name, and they knew her. They were not especially fond of her because, despite having a trim, fit physique and good muscle tone, she refused to join them. However, their leader, Trina, wanted into Nisa’s knickers; not letting her, but keeping her hoping, kept the Queens off Nisa’s back.

Nisa gave them a nod. The Queens ignored her in the way someone can only do if they’re paying attention to the thing they’re ignoring. Nisa kept on walking down Leopold Street to St Paul’s Way. It would take her fifteen minutes to get to Black Light on Morris Road, across the cut. It took her past the fast-food shop she worked at, though there were times she went the long way around to avoid that; being reminded of her dead-end job was not always something she wanted when she was heading out to try to forget her dead-end life.

Far from cool, the evening seemed rather oppressive. The air felt thick, warm. It felt a little like a thunderstorm was brewing, though she had heard nothing about it on the weather forecast. Had she listened to the weather forecast today? She had an excellent memory when she focussed on something, but today she had got up determined to get the spell to work and whether there would be rain had passed her by… No, the sky was clear as far as she could see, so it was not atmospheric pressure she was feeling. Still, by the time she was walking through the gate on Morris Road there was a film of sweat on her skin.

Black Light occupied what had once been a small factory unit with a block of offices and a reception area closest to the road. It looked post-industrial, modern, aside from the arch of brickwork above the main door, which had a vaguely Victorian look to it.

Tonight Marco was standing outside the door, looking like a bouncer. He was, technically, the doorman, but his thick muscles and bald head definitely gave the impression of ‘bouncer.’ He gave Nisa a frown as she walked toward him. ‘You okay, kid? Looking a little paler than usual.’

Nisa grinned up at him. ‘Me? I’m fine. A bit hot. You don’t think it’s a little warm?’

He looked up at the sky and then shrugged. ‘It’s not cold. That’s why I’m out here and not in there. Seems pretty fresh… for London.’

‘Must be just me then,’ Nisa said and slipped past him into the building.

There were toilets off the foyer and she ducked into the ladies’. She really did feel uncomfortably warm. Using a paper towel and carefully avoiding her make-up, she did her best to apply some cold water to her face and chest. That helped a little and she dumped the towel before heading out and through the doors into what had been the factory floor or warehouse, or whatever, and was now the main floor of the club.

Here it was hotter but not yet as oppressive as it could get later in the evening. On the few occasions when she had stayed until the place closed at two, the atmosphere had been thick, full of the scents of sweaty bodies laced with alcohol and the hope that bed meant sex. There were only a couple of people attempting to dance to the heavy beat of the music. The dance floor, positioned more or less centrally and the only area with adequate lighting except for behind the bar, was not particularly big. People came to Black Light to chat, meet, be seen, and dance, in that order. Oh, somewhere around the chat and meet stages was the ‘find someone to bang’ element, but it was far too rarely that Nisa could indulge in that.

Crossing the floor, she headed for the bar where Tamsin was, as usual, on duty. Tamsin was gorgeous: lush blonde hair, tall, slim body with large, firm breasts. She could have had anyone in the club but made it a point of not taking anyone up on any offers made. She accepted a little flirting and Nisa let herself indulge now and again because Tamsin might, just might, actually go for it at some point. Probably around the time Satan invested in a snow plough. Most of the regulars thought she was sleeping with the club’s owner, Mister Black, but Nisa was pretty sure that was bollocks.

‘Usual?’ Tamsin asked as Nisa approached, hunting in her bag for her wallet.

‘Uh-huh. The others in?’

Tamsin picked a tall glass from under the counter and turned to the optics. ‘Usual place,’ she said. ‘Wallace still thinks he has a chance with Jenna, I see.’

‘I think he has this theory that his persistence will wear her down.’

With a measure of rum in the glass, Tamsin turned and topped it off with whatever generic cola was in the taps. ‘Some people never learn. Like one day you’ll learn there’s better things to drink than this swill.’

Nisa handed over a note and waited for the change. ‘When I can afford better than this swill, I’ll drink it. Besides, I have work later.’

‘Huh. You don’t eat from that place, do you?’

‘Only when I’m really desperate,’ Nisa replied, grinning. Dropping her change into the small pocket in her wallet and the wallet in her bag, she picked up her drink, took the top off it for easier carrying and to wet her throat, and then started for the back corner of the room where the Hackers would be waiting.

They were an odd bunch. If they had a leader, then that would be Spike: techno-wizard adept. Or ‘unemployed programmer’ as most people referred to him. He was tall, painfully thin, very pale because he rarely allowed sunlight to touch his skin, with short-cropped, blonde hair which tended to spike up in random directions. His usual outfit was T-shirt, jeans, and army boots, and maybe his most noticeable feature was the metalwork. His ears, nose, and lower lip were pierced, and rumour had it that there were some other, more intimate, body parts which had received the same treatment. Spike knew more about conspiracy theories than anyone had a right to, and believed almost all of them.

Then there were the two other girls, Jenna and Lena, polar opposites, but united in their belief in the supernatural. Jenna was short; Lena was tall. Jenna was pale; Lena was tanned. Jenna was a redhead with a bust you could ski down; Lena had lots of black hair and a more modest décolletage. Jenna had the quiet confidence you expected from a model or actress; Lena tended to be bubbly. Both of them had money, which made them the minority group in the Hackers. Jenna worked in an office over in ExCel; Lena had never said where she worked, but it had to be somewhere good because it certainly paid the bills.

And then there was Wallace: the fake. He was with them because it fitted his perceived role in life as rebel ladies’ man and non-conformist, and because he desperately wanted to get into Jenna’s knickers. He had a physics degree and claimed that he was unemployed because his rebellious nature denied the constraints of big business. Nisa was pretty sure that he would have jumped at the first job he could get, but about all he was good for was teaching and no one in their right mind would employ him as a teacher. He might have got somewhere with Jenna if he lost the slight paunch, cut his lank, mid-brown hair, and maybe got his nose fixed so he looked less like a horse.

Nisa dropped onto one of the free, black, cloth-covered seats around the table the Hackers had more or less claimed as theirs, grinning. She looked up from putting her drink down on the blocky glass table in time to catch Wallace lifting his eyes from the general area of her chest.

‘Hey, Ice,’ Spike drawled. Currently he was calling her ‘Ice’ because her hair, shaved at the sides and slicked back on top, was dyed white with a hint of pale blue. She thought her natural colour was a dirty blonde, but it had not been that colour since she was fifteen. ‘How’s it hangin’, babe?’

Nisa beamed at him. ‘I did it,’ she said, her voice barely audible over the music.

Spike, Jenna, and Lena all looked at her with widening eyes. They had all been trying to make the Reality Hack thing work, but from the looks of it Nisa was the first to manage it.

‘Did what?’ Wallace asked. ‘If it’s sex with a girl, we want details.’ His stupid grin lasted until Lena punched him in the arm. ‘What?’ he whined.

Lifting her hand, palm upward, Nisa focussed herself, eyes half-closed as she gathered her will and…

‘No fucking way,’ Wallace said.

Opening her eyes, Nisa grinned at the ball of glowing light sitting above her palm. ‘I got it working about an hour ago. That’s why I’m late. It works. Reality Hacking is real.’

‘It’s gotta be a trick,’ Wallace said. ‘That’s not… physically possible.’

‘You’re the physicist,’ Jenna said. ‘You want to explain what you’re seeing if it’s not possible?’

‘Some sort of… plasma…’ He reached out a hand, hesitated, and then pushed a finger into the ball of light. ‘Nothing. Can’t feel anything. It’s not hot… or solid. It’s just…’

‘Light,’ Lena finished for him. ‘I didn’t believe… I mean, I believed, but I never thought one of us… Oh wow.’

The only one who had not said anything was Spike, and when he did speak it was quiet and intense. ‘Hide it. Don’t let anyone else see you can do that.’ Frowning, Nisa cupped the ball of light in her hands, obscuring the glow. Spike nodded. ‘That site got pulled for a reason, by people powerful enough to make it and its owners vanish entirely. We don’t want to attract that kind of attention.’

‘Afraid the MIBs’ll come for us?’ Wallace said, grinning.

‘Yes,’ Spike said with such intensity that Wallace stopped grinning. ‘Them or something worse.’ He looked at Nisa. ‘I know there’s no point in saying you should stop now. We’ve proved it can be done, that’s what we wanted, but you’ll keep practising, I know you will. Just keep it out of sight, okay?’

The light in Nisa’s hands chose that moment to die. She unclasped her fingers. ‘Okay,’ she said and then plucked at the front of her top, eliciting a small sigh from Wallace. ‘Is it hot in here, or is it just me?’ she asked.

‘Just you,’ Jenna replied.

‘I think we can all agree that Nisa’s hot,’ Wallace confirmed and the tension in the group dissolved.

Lena still punched him in the arm again.

June 7th.

Gun’s Kebabs prided itself on being open twenty-four hours a day, except on Sunday. Well, ‘prided itself’ was maybe not quite the right term, but you could buy mediocre food there at any hour of the day or night and if you wanted a burger at four in the morning you got served by Nisa.

She did midnight until seven in the morning when Mister Gun came down from the flat above the shop. There were never many customers, and a lot of those were stoned, but there were enough to pay Nisa’s wages, handle the extra utility bill, and make a little profit, so Gun kept opening at night. To Nisa, it was a job which let her do a lot of reading. Her one big complaint about it was the ‘uniform.’ She sat behind the counter in a short, gingham dress in white with a toothpaste-green check, and a stupid little hat which was supposed to keep her hair out of the food. She purposefully wore her clogs most nights so that she did not feel like a traitor to any sense of fashion she had.

For a Friday, it was quiet. Technically, for a Saturday morning it was quiet, but Nisa had, after over a year of working nights, begun to view the clock backward. Saturday would start at midday, when she was asleep. She had draped a blanket over the curtain rail in her bedroom and her curtains were never drawn back. Whatever, it was after two and no one had been in for over an hour. The stoners had not, apparently, got to the famished stage, or they had stocked up on munchable snacks beforehand. This did not bother Nisa in the least because watching someone count out the cost of their kebab with too much hot sauce in pennies was never the highlight of her night.

She detected movement in the corner of her eye and looked out through the glass frontage. A man was walking past the window, but it looked like he was going to keep on walking so she went back to her book. The buzzer going off in the back room came as something of a surprise. It was there to let anyone in the back know that the front door had been opened, so maybe the guy had had a sudden urge to eat. She looked up and…

He had to be the most beautiful human being she had ever seen, though if she had to work out exactly why she would have been hard-pressed to do so. He was young, certainly no older than she was, quite pale… Maybe that was it; with the dark hair and eyes, and the pale complexion, he had Goth written all over him and she did like that look. But this was Lord Byron Gothic. This was ‘Oh my God, let me kiss your feet, you beautiful creature of the night’ Gothic. And he was smiling at her.

She slipped off her stool and stepped up to the counter. He had said nothing, so she figured he was waiting for her. ‘C-can I do anything for you? I mean… Is there something you wanted?’

‘Yes,’ he said. His voice seemed to vibrate between her legs. One word and she felt like her knees were going to buckle.

‘Uh… We do burgers… kebabs… um…’ What the Hell else was on the menu?

‘I was thinking,’ the man said, ‘of something different.’

‘Oh? I-if it’s on the menu…’ She waved a hand vaguely over her shoulder at the board on the wall.

‘It’s not on the menu. It’s standing in front of the menu.’

Nisa opened her mouth and tried to think of something to say, but her brain had gone numb. She watched as he walked out of her line of sight; her eyes were fixed on the window now. She heard the hatch at the side of the counter being opened and some part of her was thinking that customers were not allowed behind the counter, but saying that was proving impossible.

‘Beautiful,’ she heard him say from behind her. She felt his hands sliding her dress up over her hips. Shit! He was really going to… His fingers pushed her thong down her legs and, despite the fact that she did not want to, she stepped out of it and set her legs apart, waiting for him. He’s going to… His tongue flicked over her labia, and she bit off a moan and tried to focus her mind on why she should be trying to stop him.

‘You want this, Nisa,’ he purred. He was standing again and he was behind her…

‘I want this,’ she said and even to her, her voice sounded like she was asleep. No! She tilted her hips back toward him. No?

And then he was inside her. Thick and long: God he was big! Cool… His skin was cold. That did not seem to matter. There was a weird, burning sensation in the pit of her stomach that seemed to be growing. That did not matter either. She felt him stroking into her, over and over, and that was all that mattered. The burning sensation reached up through her body and she felt her heart stutter, and she thought she heard the door buzzer and a loud bang, but by then she had collapsed onto the counter and there was nothing but darkness.

Westminster.

There was a sound. It took Nisa a second or two to figure out what it was. Her brain felt fuzzy, dopy, kind of dim, like the one time she had tried weed and it had gone bad. A rhythmic beeping sound: a heart monitor. She was in a hospital? Why was she in a hospital? As her senses started to return, another question asserted itself with some force: why was she cuffed to the bed?

She opened her eyes and lifted her head, trying to get some idea of what was going on. The room was blank and white, and did not look exactly like a hospital room. To her right was a bank of equipment which included the beeping monitor as well as a couple of instruments she did not recognise. One of those showed a number, 11, in red numerals. Nothing in red was ever good. The bed was a typical sort of hospital one with a solid frame around it, and the restraints she could feel on her wrists and ankles were presumably attached to that. She could not be sure since she was covered to her neck in a white, cotton sheet with a pretty high thread count. On the other hand, she was fairly sure she was naked under it, which was not standard hospital procedure. And there was the man sitting in a chair beside one of two doors, which looked very solid, she noted, almost like a cell door. The other door was lighter, internal: a bathroom maybe.

The man in question looked like he was in his mid-twenties, maybe a little older. There was a hint about his face of something older, something a lot older, but she got the impression that that was too much experience rather than years. He was dressed in an open-necked sweater made of some sort of flannel, and dark jeans, and those obscured what looked like a fairly strong, powerful body. He kept himself fit; she could see muscles flexing as he turned the pages of the leather-bound book he was reading. His face was serious, hard, solid. High cheekbones above sunken cheeks and a solid jawline gave him a skull-like appearance softened by the black hair, wisps of which hung at the sides of his face. There was a slight widow’s peak and she thought she could see braids at the back when he turned his head, and she decided that his hair was an affectation designed to deny his basic conformity. He had gorgeous, blue eyes.

All that was taken in in a second and then the normal flow of time reasserted itself as he looked up at her.

‘You’re awake then?’ he said, his voice calm, unconcerned.

Nisa remembered that she was tied to the bed. ‘Who the fuck are you? Why the fuck am I tied down?’

He stood up and stepped toward the side of the bed. The light from the overheads caught gold lettering on the cover of his book and she read ‘Decanic Invocation.’ He put the book down beside one of the monitors and peered at her for a second.

‘What do you remember?’ he asked.

She opened her mouth to demand answers, not questions, but then the realisation hit her: her normally near-perfect memory was giving her next to nothing. What could she actually remember…?

‘I was at work,’ she said.

‘Gun’s Kebabs,’ he said, putting so much disgust into the two words that she felt obliged to defend the place.

‘Yeah, Gun’s Kebabs. It’s not that bad and it pays the bills.’

He stared at her. ‘Go on.’

‘It was quiet for a Friday and then… Then this guy walked in. Really attractive.’

‘What did he look like?’

‘Uh… Dark. I can’t… I can’t remember much about him. It’s weird because I normally have a really good memory.’

‘And what did this man do?’

‘I asked if he wanted anything and he said… He said…’ Her brow knitted in concentration. ‘He said he wanted something different, not on the menu… And after that there’s nothing but a blur until I woke up. In bondage. It’s kinky, but I’d like out now.’

He coughed and then turned for the door. He did have braids, long, thin ones, capped with silver weights. ‘Someone will be in to remove the cuffs. You’re to stay in bed and rest until you’ve recovered fully.’

‘Why? What the fuck happened to me?’

‘Very apposite,’ he said, but she got nothing else as he opened the door and walked out. The locks which engaged when the door closed sounded very solid.

June 8th.

There was no clock in the room, not even on the instruments, so Nisa had no idea how long she had been there. As promised, a woman in a short, white dress had appeared and undone the cuffs holding her to the bed. The woman had introduced herself as Sandra and she had politely, but firmly, told Nisa that she needed rest, and lots of it. There had been pills, and one of them had probably been a sedative because Nisa had gone out like a light, waking up when her stomach was trying to gnaw its way out of her body.

Sandra was standing beside the bed with a tray of food. ‘I’ve got soup and some crusty bread. You don’t get butter; it’s fattening. If you eat it all, you get dessert.’

Nisa looked at the food being put down in front of her. There was going to be no major issue with eating everything there. She was more worried about it not being enough. ‘There’s dessert?’ she asked.

‘Jelly,’ Sandra told her. ‘Green.’

‘You’re kidding?’

‘Yes. It’s chocolate mousse.’ Sandra turned and headed for the door.

‘That’s just as stereotyped,’ Nisa called after her, and started ripping up the bread.

Five minutes later, when she was scraping the last of the soup, a thick broth, up with the last of the bread, the man she had seen earlier walked in holding a folder and a small, plastic cup filled with something brown.

‘Aww, you play waiter too,’ Nisa said, grinning.

‘I see almost dying hasn’t killed your sense of humour,’ he said. He had an accent. American?

Nisa’s face straightened. ‘I almost died?!’

He put down the pot of mousse and then took a newspaper out of the folder, dropping it into her lap, which caused her sheet to shift down a couple of inches; the man seemed oblivious to the sudden display of nipples. It was a copy of the London Evening Standard and she checked the date. ‘It’s tomorrow already? I slept right through the day?’

‘You needed the sleep. Page three.’

She opened the paper and the article popped out at her along with a picture of the front of Gun’s Kebabs, the big front window shattered from some central impact point. Her eyes flicked over the print. ‘Gangland-style drive-by shooting? This isn’t the Lower East Side.’

‘That’s the official story. The man who came into your shop had gangland connections. Someone blew out the window and then shot him in the head. A very large calibre bullet, there wasn’t much left to identify him. The first bullet clipped you on the way through; you’re lucky to be alive.’ It was all delivered in a flat tone which gave her the distinct impression that what he was saying was all bull.

‘I don’t have a head injury. That’s not what really happened.’

‘No. The man you saw was a vampire. He attacked you. I put a forty-four Magnum round in his head while he was busy, but he got close to taking you out. Then I shot out the window and arranged the cover story, and had you transferred here.’

Nisa opened her mouth, and closed it. She was not going to say the first thing that sprang to mind because that was crazy.

‘And here is?’ she asked.

‘We’ll get to that. Hanson wants to talk to you later.’

‘Okay… You are?’

‘You can call me Kellog.’

‘Like the breakfast cereal?’

‘That has two Gs.’

‘Do you ever speak in anything other than a monotone?’

‘Yes,’ he replied flatly.

He was obviously waiting for her to ask the obvious question and, feeling self-conscious, she reached up to her throat.

‘The term “vampire” is used for any of several different Bugs which live off the energy of other programs. They don’t all bite necks.’

‘You aren’t making any sense.’

‘Says the girl who spends her time working out how to do magic spells.’

‘I–’

Kellog lifted the file, waving it at her. ‘Please, we’ve been watching you for a while. You and your little… gang of misfits. We got a notification from the States about your friend, Mister Truman. We know he accessed a certain website before it was taken down by the NSA. We know he has been attempting to discover what happened to that site. He’s good, it took effort, but we know.’

‘And… and you think that means I’m working magic?’

‘Actually, that device over there tells me you’ve been working magic.’ He pointed at the device beside the deactivated heart monitor which was now showing a pulsing, green zero. ‘It detects… aberrations in reality. Creatures like the one that attacked you can sense the same thing and they’re drawn to it. It chose you because you’ve been building up a charge for weeks. You’re lucky. We noticed you and I was there to stop it. Another few seconds and your nervous system would have shut down.’

Spike had said no one should know, and now she was locked in some weird, X-Files secret facility with people who, clearly, already knew. Had they arrested the others? ‘So what happens now?’ Nisa asked.

‘Now, you recover. We want you back at full health and it’s going to take a few days. Then… we tell you your options. I have things to do, so you won’t see me for a while. Sandra will be looking after you, Norbery will be in to run a few tests, and you’ll meet Hanson at some point.’ He turned and started for the door.

‘Uh… thanks,’ she said to his retreating back.

He stopped. ‘For what?’

‘Saving my life, I guess.’

‘Decide whether you want to thank me when you’ve heard what your choices are,’ he said, and then he walked out.

June 10th.

Nisa thought it was her third day in the room. That was based mostly on meals since she had slept through almost all of it. There was nothing to do aside from stare at the walls or ceiling, and by the end of the first day she could have drawn a perfect schematic of the room from memory. At least Sandra had decided that she was allowed solid food, and she was feeling less tired.

That was when Norbery turned up. She guessed he was in his forties. There was a little grey in his brown hair and there were lines showing, especially around the eyes, but he still kept himself fit and he had a nice smile. He was quick with it too, which was a nice change from the taciturn Kellog and Sandra’s professionalism. He walked into the room pushing a trolley with a scattering of odd items on it, along with a stack of magazines and a clipboard.

‘Miss Harper, I presume,’ he said, grinning. ‘Not like there’s anyone else here. I’m Frank Norbery.’

‘Hi. Kellog said you’d be here to run some tests?’

‘Uh-huh. First test: they’re a bit old, but I brought some magazines for you.’

‘They could be printed by Gutenberg,’ Nisa replied.

Norbery picked up his clipboard and ticked a box. ‘No apparent mental impairment,’ he said, giving her another grin.

‘Yesterday I was still pretty tired. Today… I’m going to go postal if I don’t have something to do.’

He nodded. ‘Tiredness is a common side effect of the feeding process. There’s typically a reduction in serotonin.’

‘I still don’t actually remember what happened to me.’

‘That’s normal too, though that’s an effect of the hypnosis. If victims don’t remember what happened, the vamp is less likely to get caught.’ He ticked another box on his form as he explained.

‘I was hypnotised?’

‘It’s more like mind control, a telepathic effect. Hypnosis suggests more of a persuasion technique, yes? This is brute force.’

‘I’m, uh, still trying to get my head around the idea that vampires are real.’

Norbery had picked up some sort of instrument. It looked somewhat anachronistic, maybe a bit steampunk. The case was a dark wood with lots of brass fittings and a silvery mesh port set into one side. There was an old-style electrical dial on the top.

‘You work magic, and you have trouble with the idea of vampires? What about ghosts?’

‘Jenna, my friend–’

‘I’ve read the file.’

‘Right. Still getting used to there being a file. Anyway, Jenna believes the ghost of her grandmother is watching over her. Lena’s into all sorts of superstitious stuff. They would say yes to vampires and ghosts.’

Norbery gave a nod, studying his gadget. ‘How about… fairies? Werewolves? Demons?’

‘I guess… I mean, if there are vampires and ghosts, right?’

‘There are more things in Heaven and Earth–’ Norbery began.

‘Than are dreamt of in my philosophy?’ Nisa suggested. Norbery raised an eyebrow. ‘I did go to school, you know?’

‘I’m aware. You have a first-class degree in applied mathematics which implies school and university. Why are you working in a kebab shop?’

‘Didn’t want to be a teacher.’ She frowned. For some reason she felt like being honest with this man. ‘It’s more complicated than that, but my options were limited and I didn’t like any of them.’ And now her options were going to be limited again.

‘And you like the kebab shop?’ He had put down the meter-like device and picked up something which looked far from scientific: a length of twisted wood which Nisa could not help but think looked like a wand.

‘No, but unemployment is an even less good option. Are you a magician?’

‘A witch.’

‘Oh…’ His own honesty was a little surprising. ‘I thought male witches were called warlocks.’

‘Not since the sixties. Sexual equality and all that. I practise witchcraft, ergo I am a witch.’

‘So… what is it you’re actually doing? I mean, that thing, the box, looked like something sort of technological, but…’

‘The thing in the box is a small, contained Glitch. Glitches are attracted to people who have been working too much magic. You build up what we call Probrum.’

‘Sounds like Latin.’

Norbery gave her a smile. ‘It is. In this case it’s just jargon. By measuring the Glitch’s attraction to you–’

‘I’m sorry… A Glitch?’

‘Think of it as… a fault in reality. A defect. A glitch in modern terms. This one is stable and very small. It’s an electrical effect and we can contain it in a magnetic field.’

‘So you measure disturbances in the field to measure how hard it’s trying to get to me?’

The witch gave her another smile. ‘That education wasn’t for nothing. Anyway, that was giving me nothing; you’ve shed much of your accumulated Probrum, so I’m going to cast a spell to measure what I need… Just as soon as you stop asking questions.’

Nisa blinked at him and she felt her cheeks colouring. Generally embarrassed about nothing, she felt a little abashed to be stopping him working, even if he was, effectively, one of her jailors. She closed her mouth, got another smile, and watched as he raised his wand and began muttering under his breath. None of the words sounded like words, or any words she knew anyway. The chanting continued for about half a minute, and then he shuddered and looked down at her.

‘Something didn’t go according to plan there, but I got what I needed,’ he said.

‘What went wrong?’ Nisa asked, frowning.

‘It’s hard to tell. That’s magic for you. I expect I’ll find out, or perhaps I’ll be lucky and whatever it is won’t find its trigger before it fades. These things are rarely permanent.’

‘You know, the more I hear about magic, the less I think I should have started.’

Norbery put his wand back on the trolley, picked up the stack of magazines, and handed them across to her. ‘Yes, Miss Harper,’ he said, ‘and if you continue studying it, you’ll likely discover that that wish just gets stronger.’

June 11th.

Whatever the place was she was being kept in, it had a gym. Not a big one, but it did have weights, a treadmill, and a couple of exercise machines. Sandra had agreed that some light exercise might be good for Nisa’s recovery and had obtained permission for gym access. That had taken a couple of hours. Every door in the place seemed to have code-key locks so Nisa still felt like a prisoner, and the short walk down one, blank, institutional corridor had told her nothing, but at least she was out of the room.

Sandra had found her some athletic shorts and a T-shirt which was a little tight. She was in bare feet because the only clothes that had survived whatever had happened to her were her clogs and they were not very suitable for exercise. She was feeling fat and lazy after too much bed rest, and she knew she was going to overdo it, especially when Sandra left her alone in the gym, but when she stretched to prep herself for the weight machine, it felt like settling back into her normal routine.

She did overdo it, all the while vaguely expecting Sandra to appear to tell her that she had to stop. Instead it was Kellog who walked in while Nisa was working on her adductor muscles. He stopped just inside the doorway, allowing it to swing shut behind him. He was dressed in sweats, obviously there to exercise. One eyebrow rose as he looked at her on the bench, thighs prised apart by the machine she was using. She thought, for a second, that he was visually commenting on her posture, or outfit, or both. Then he spoke.

‘Sandra told you that light exercise would be a good idea.’

‘Compared to my usual workouts, this is light.’

He walked over as she squeezed her thighs together, checking the weights. ‘Really,’ he said.

‘Low weight, high rep. I don’t want thighs like tree trunks.’

He looked down at her thighs. ‘You don’t,’ he said, before turning to the treadmill.

There was silence for a while, aside from the squeak of the machine and the hum and rhythmic thumping from the treadmill.

‘Is everyone here some sort of magician?’ Nisa asked.

‘No,’ Kellog replied.

‘Norbery said he was a witch. What about you?’

There was silence for a second and she thought he was not going to reply. ‘I practise Hermetic wizardry.’

‘Oh. Hermetic. Right.’

‘It’s a codified form of magic utilising the imagery of the Qabalah.’

‘That’s the Jewish mystical system, right?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, and she could have sworn he sounded just a little impressed.

‘So you use the Sephiroth as the basis for your spells?’

‘That’s the basis, yes. The public versions are not quite the same as the esoteric ones we use.’

‘So… there are more out there. I mean, there are a lot of practising magicians out there and no one knows about them.’

‘They know about them; they simply don’t believe in them. Most of the people out there are rational, which means that if they can’t explain something they rationalise it. Vampires are serial killers. Ghosts are delusions. Magicians are charlatans and tricksters. Even superstitious people don’t really believe in magic. They have their little rituals which they perform. They believe in them so they remember the times when they work and ignore the times they don’t. But if they were faced with a real magician, they wouldn’t believe it.’

Nisa frowned and stopped her thigh presses. She had really done enough anyway. ‘So, those rituals… Do they work?’

‘Rarely, but yes. Anyone can work magic, Miss Harper. Some people are better at it than others.’

‘How long have you been doing it?’

‘About a decade.’

‘You must be pretty good.’

There was silence again. Then he said, ‘I’ve barely scratched the surface.’

June 12th.

Nisa sat up in bed with a start, trying hard to get her breathing under control and forget the nightmare she had just had, all at the same time. It was not working especially well, but by the time the door opened and Sandra looked in, she was at least able to breathe more or less normally.

‘Nightmare?’ Sandra asked.

‘I get them. More than my fair share, I sometimes think.’

‘What kind?’

Nisa looked at her. The question had sounded a little too direct. ‘Tonight it was being strapped to a table while dark, faceless figures walked around me, muttering in a strange language. Actually, something like that features a lot. Being watched, or tested. Sometimes there’s more pain.’

Sandra gave a nod. ‘Do you want something to help you sleep?’

Shaking her head, Nisa said, ‘No. I usually get back to sleep. Once I’ve got it out of my head.’

There was another nod and the nurse retreated. There was the sound of the locks engaging and Nisa laid her head down. It was going to be harder to get the images out lying in a locked room. Well, she would just have to try.

~~~

‘So, what’s the assessment?’ The speaker was a woman in her middle years but still fit and attractive, if a little tired around the eyes. Her hair was grey, but that was more to do with stress than age. She was watching Nisa, back in the gym, on a monitor.

‘Physically she’s recovered well,’ Sandra said. ‘She’s fit, exercises regularly. She seems to be taking what’s going on in her stride. She’s inquisitive, obviously, but she’s also observant and retains information well.’

‘Magically,’ Norbery put in, ‘she’s off the chart. The System seems to like her. She’s got the highest tolerance for Probrum I’ve ever seen, enormous potential. She’s clean. There’s no indication of influence or malefic activities. The difficulty is going to be her… nature. She doesn’t have a style; she sees magic as… as hacking reality.’

The grey-haired woman gave a grunt. ‘Not far from the truth. So she just wills things to happen?’

‘There seems to be some thought-forms involved, but that’s about the size of it.’

‘Kellog? You’re going to have to teach her.’

‘She talks too much,’ Kellog said from his place leaning against the wall beside the office door.

‘You don’t talk enough,’ Norbery commented.

‘More to the point,’ the woman said, ‘you need a new partner and getting one any other way is a pain in the arse.’

Kellog sighed. ‘If she’s as powerful as Frank says, then we’re going to have to take her on. Reprogramming may not work. She may say no, of course.’

The woman behind the desk looked down at the monitor again. ‘For her sake, I hope she doesn’t.’

June 13th.

Nisa was putting her exercise gear on in the hopes of going to the gym again when the door opened and Sandra walked in.

‘Forget that,’ the nurse said, tossing a bag onto the bed. ‘Put those on. You’re going to see the chief.’

Frowning, Nisa dug in the bag, finding a pair of dark jeans and a cream blouse, and a pair of knickers which were really, really not the kind Nisa would have selected herself. She grimaced.

‘I know it’s not exactly your style, but I had to make do. You can’t go in athletic knickers.’

‘The jeans aren’t bad,’ Nisa relented. ‘I just wear skirts a lot.’

‘I had no idea what size bra you took either… Maybe I should’ve got a darker blouse.’

‘I’ll be fine. I don’t wear bras much either. Exercise or bed, mostly. My boobs’ll probably be down around my knees when I’m thirty, but I’ve never liked the restriction.’

Kellog walked in as Nisa was doing up the buttons on the blouse. He looked her up and down, noted her high-heeled clogs with dispassion but a slight pause, and then glanced at Sandra. ‘A darker blouse might have been appropriate.’

‘I know,’ Sandra whined, ‘but I was in a hurry. She’ll do. Hanson isn’t going to judge her on her wardrobe.’

‘No.’ He looked back at Nisa. ‘Come on,’ he said and turned around again.

They went down the short corridor outside, past the gym, and through a code-locked door onto another, equally bland hallway. There he turned right, walked to the end which was all of twenty yards, and knocked on the door, not waiting for a reply before pushing it open and waving Nisa through.

The office beyond felt more like someone cared for it than the rest of the place Nisa had seen so far. The walls were painted a mildly pleasant brown, heavy on the red, which made it feel warm. There was a big, oak desk, some filing cabinets, two chairs in front of the desk, and one big, comfortable-looking, leather office chair behind it.

Sitting in that chair was a grey-haired woman who Nisa assumed to be Hanson. Somehow she had not expected a woman, but there she was, peering at Nisa with sharp, blue eyes. This, Nisa decided, was not a woman to be trifled with.

‘Have a seat, Miss Harper,’ Hanson told her. ‘I’m Melody Hanson, Chief Inspector Hanson, Metropolitan Police Exceptional Circumstances Unit. You’ve already met Detective Inspector Kellog. We come under the Specialist Crime and Operations Directorate, but you won’t find us listed, so don’t bother looking. We don’t, officially, exist. You are sitting in our base of operations, affectionately known as the Rabbit Hole for obvious reasons.’

She paused and looked across the desk at Nisa, maybe expecting a response. Nisa decided she should give one. ‘I’m guessing that you deal with supernatural issues. It makes sense that you’d be… covert.’

Hanson favoured her with a slight smile. ‘Norbery said you were smart. He’s our forensics technician. He and Sandra are civilian employees. We have one other member you haven’t met, and that is XC. All of it. And we do deal with supernatural issues, and you present us with such an issue.’

This time Nisa decided to remain silent.

‘Allow me to lay this out for you then,’ Hanson went on. ‘You are, potentially, quite a powerful magician. Left to your own devices, you could be no end of trouble.’

‘Why? I don’t see what the problem is. I mean, it’s amazing, wonderful, but I don’t see why it’s dangerous…’

Hanson stared at her for a second and then said, ‘Your first choice then. This one is not irrevocable. Are you sure that you want to hear this?’

‘Yes,’ Nisa replied without hesitation, but a couple of second thoughts.

‘All right, here is what we know. The world around you, that which we call reality, is not real. It began around five thousand, seven hundred years ago, and everything before that is faked. It is a simulation, software. You, me, and everyone else are programs executing on some kind of computer within a simulated world.’

Nisa gave her a half-smile. ‘Is this where you offer me a red pill and a blue pill and ask me to choose?’

‘No. There is no outside. Or rather, there must be, but you don’t have a body there being used to generate power. Ridiculous concept anyway. We’re software. We don’t know why, and we have no idea what purpose The System serves. Maybe it’s some sort of experiment, or some way of preserving what humanity was, or a game. We know this is not the first iteration of The System, however. There have been others, failures we assume, but whoever built this thing didn’t scrub all the old code, and like any software there are… defects.’

‘Bugs and Glitches,’ Nisa said.

‘Exactly. Magic is one of those defects, in a way. It’s… an access violation issue. Programs can sometimes access aspects of The System they shouldn’t, allowing them to violate the rules. This is a simulation, not reality. The physical laws, like gravity, are programmed elements of the software, not some inescapable law of nature. But The System doesn’t like that kind of thing. When it happens too much, or the Bugs become too noticeable, The System reacts. Usually the effect seems natural. Disease outbreaks, accidents, people die and the world keeps going. If it gets too bad, you get more drastic measures. The Great Fire of London was probably one of those. Some people suspect the Black Death was.’

Nisa suddenly felt very cold. ‘And if it gets really bad… You said the earlier iterations were failures.’

Hanson gave her a nod. ‘I see you’ve got the hang of it. You’re taking this very well.’

‘I’ll probably have a nervous breakdown later. You said you knew this stuff. How?’

‘The System has… agents. They take various forms and when they turn up it’s usually very bad, but occasionally they just talk. Putting together bits and pieces from throughout history and across the world… We’ve had five thousand years to work out what we can, and what we’ve worked out is that we need to keep a lid on this or The System will decide it needs to start with something new.’

‘Keep a lid on it…’ Nisa said slowly. ‘That’s where I come in.’

‘That, as you say, is where you come in. I can either use you or neutralise the threat.’

Nisa did not like the sound of that last part. ‘Neutralise’ had a rather terminal ring to it, and she decided that finding out exactly what Hanson meant by that could wait. On the other hand…

‘You know, “use” has an unpleasant sort of connotation…’

‘Would you prefer “employ?”’ Hanson asked.

‘You’re offering me a job?!’

The policewoman reached down to open a drawer in her desk, producing what looked a lot like a scroll and a small box which could have held jewellery. She placed them in front of her and then looked across at Nisa.

‘I’m offering you a contract, with menaces. You, me, and Kellog sign this and we have a deal. We train you, and you work for me. It’s dangerous work and the contract is for ten years. You read it before signing and make sure you understand what it means. Once you commit to this, there’s no going back.’

Frowning, Nisa reached forward and picked up the rolled-up sheet of paper. It felt a little strange and she decided that this was actual parchment, not paper. The writing was small and spidery, but legible, and it started with a carefully phrased description of the process of signing the contract along with the results should any party in it fail to live up to the strictures listed below.

‘If I screw up, I suffer from chronic pain until I correct my mistake?’ Nisa asked.

‘The traditional version curses you with bad luck, but we’ve found that intense migraines are a better reminder,’ Hanson replied. ‘Tradition would also have you sign it in blood, but we’re happy with a Biro.’

‘Right…’

There were a lot of rules about following orders, training diligently, and being available as and when required. It sounded like she was giving her life away, but she had to admit that her life was not exactly worth much as it was. Then there was the paragraph about the ring.

‘What’s this ring I’m supposed to have with me at all times?’

Hanson flipped open the box. Inside, nestled into velvet, was a silver ring with a black stone mounted into it. The design was abstract, but also sort of Celtic, or some sort of ethnic style anyway. If she was going to have to wear it, at least it looked fairly good.

‘It serves a number of purposes. If you have to use a lot of magic, it makes you less noticeable to Bugs and reduces normal people’s reaction to the Probrum.’

‘Normal people can sense it?’

‘Not consciously,’ Kellog put in, ‘but they can feel something. It usually manifests as wariness. They think there’s something odd about you and react badly. The rings reduce that negative reaction.’ He raised his hand to indicate the one he was wearing with its red stone.

‘The rings also let us find you easily,’ Hanson went on, ‘which is why you’re not allowed to be outside of ten yards of it. We like to keep a tight rein on our people.’

‘Oh,’ Nisa said. ‘I don’t really want to know what the alternative is, do I?’

‘I don’t know. Do you?’

Nisa frowned and looked around at Kellog’s impassive face. ‘You’re on one of these contracts?’ He gave a nod in reply, and Nisa turned back to the desk and the waiting scroll. She picked up a pen that was lying there waiting and found the two lines at the bottom with her name printed above them. The second line was for the date and she realised she was not sure what that was. ‘Uh, I’ve kind of lost track of time. What day is it?’

Hanson’s tone was flat as she replied, but there was a hint of amusement in it. ‘It’s Friday. June thirteenth.’

Nisa winced. Oh that was just perfect. Swallowing hard, she reached out to sign her name on the contract.

Part Two: Faline

Tower Hamlets, London, June 21st, 2014.

Nisa had been avoiding Black Light. She had got a couple of texts from Jenna and Lena, and a number of emails from Spike. Wallace knew neither her phone number nor her email address due to a process of carefully avoiding giving them to him, and of him not really caring because he was only interested in Jenna. She had claimed she was still not feeling great after what had happened and she would be back with the Hackers when she felt ready. In truth, she just had no idea what to tell them.

Quitting Gun’s Kebabs had been easier. After what had happened, Mister Gun was fairly understanding when she said she did not think she could work there anymore. He had even offered her a week’s pay, but she had been magnanimous and said that she was leaving him in the lurch, so no. It had been easy to be magnanimous knowing that she was getting paid a police constable’s salary, which was not exactly riches aplenty, but it was way more than she had earned at Gun’s.

She had been told to take a week out to get her head together. Make sure she understood what she was getting into. Make doubly sure she had got that nervous breakdown out of the way. There were a few perks to help her on the way. One was a new smartphone which ran on the police’s Airwave network, but had some sort of extra encryption system which provided closed communication with Exceptional Circumstances. The second was a laptop, also connected via Airwave to the Rabbit Hole, which had to be unlocked by her thumbprint and let her browse the texts they kept on computer, rather than the ones they kept in a locked room. She had been referred specifically to the ones on police procedures. They were boring, but she had expected that.

After a week of the inside of her flat, however, she was going stir-crazy and knew she had to face the outside world at some point. She picked up her new phone, unlocked it with a press of her thumb, and flicked through the contacts before hitting one of them.

‘Kellog.’ The word was snapped out tersely, though he had to know who was calling.

‘It’s Nisa, which you presumably knew. I wanted some advice.’

‘I’m your mentor. That’s what I’m here for.’

‘Right. This isn’t strictly about… that stuff, but it is, kind of…’

‘The point, Miss Harper?’

‘I need to get out of my flat. Go see my friends. I figure you’re not my social advisor, but… What do I tell them?’

His answer came immediately. ‘You have a new job. While being interviewed over the shooting… You do remember the cover story?’

‘Yes. Perfectly.’

‘Good. While you were being interviewed, one of the officers mentioned a vacant position as a statistical analyst working for the Met. You applied and have been given the job. Given the rather rebellious nature of your male friends, there would be some natural reticence in telling them about it, which explains the delay in mentioning it. You were, of course, also in shock.’

‘You’ve thought about this pretty thoroughly.’

‘Someone has to.’ And the line went dead.

‘Well, that’s me told,’ she said to the empty room.

Poplar.

‘So, you’re working for The Man?’ Spike said, his eyes narrowing across the table at Nisa.

‘Uh… Well… Yeah, I guess,’ Nisa replied, grimacing. ‘That makes it sound–’

‘Good,’ Spike said. There was a squawk of surprise from Jenna. Nisa would have joined her, but she was too busy feeling shocked.

‘I was, uh, expecting a bit more… reaction,’ Nisa said finally.

‘Well, I always thought your talents were wasted in that crappy fast-food joint,’ Spike told her. ‘At least you’ll be using your degree. What is it they’ve got you doing, exactly?’

‘Something to do with analysing crime statistics. I’m not a statistician, but they seemed to think I’d be good enough.’

‘You are.’ He leaned forward. ‘There’s also the other aspect. You’ll be on the inside. You’ll be the perfect spy.’

Nisa grinned at him. ‘I’d kind of like to keep this job. It pays real money.’

‘You just, y’know, keep your eyes open.’

‘Sure, Spike, I can do that.’

‘Because they’ll leave all their secrets lying around to be seen by the new girl,’ Wallace commented wryly.

‘She’ll have access to the PND,’ Spike replied, ‘maybe HOLMES. Well, they replaced that with the second version, but that’s the crime scene management system. They input data on anything serious to that to handle major crime scenes. It does disaster planning stuff too. And the PND…’

‘Police National Database,’ Nisa said. ‘It’s their Big Brother system of data on people and cars, stuff like that.’

‘You do listen to me sometimes.’

‘Occasionally I even try to remember what you said. I’ve no idea what they’re actually going to give me access to. Don’t get your hopes up.’

‘I’m not hoping, but… Well, you never know what you might see. You’re looking at crime statistics? Maybe you should see if you can detect any anomalies in the data.’

Nisa tried to keep the frown off her face. She was going to have to look into the statistics anyway; Spike was going to ask her about them and she probably needed to be able to bore everyone rigid to keep her cover. What if there was something about the crime statistics that could help detect the stuff XC was interested in?

‘I’m not sure I’m that good a statistician,’ she said.

‘Maybe it’s time to brush up then,’ Spike suggested.

Tower Hamlets, June 22nd.

There was a cat watching her as she walked past the new flats on St Paul’s Way. Nisa had let herself drink more than usual, given that she did not need to work until Monday, and the pair of green eyes staring at her from behind the temporary barriers almost went unseen.

When she did see them, she giggled, came to a stop, and bent down. ‘Hey, Puss. Shouldn’t you be at home? Curled up somewhere?’

The cat stared back at her, unmoving. It was black, almost invisible since the nearest working street lamp was across the road. Nisa was fairly sure it was a female, just from the way it looked at her, and maybe the rather sleek, slim body. It was not large, maybe even a little on the small side for a domestic cat. The eyes though, the eyes were a really vibrant green, and she could have sworn the thing was smiling.

‘Well, I’m going home,’ Nisa told it. ‘Night, Cat.’

She straightened up and started walking again. She had made it to the corner with Baythorne Street when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. The cat was sitting on a litter bin there, cleaning a paw.

‘Can’t be the same cat,’ Nisa muttered to herself and kept on walking.

Except that the same green eyes were watching her from the low wall around the car park below her building. It would have had to have cut across the grounds of the school to get there, but it could have beaten her, maybe. If it had run very fast, or cut through the building somehow…

‘Are you following me?’ she asked the cat. All she got in reply was a stare and a slight tilt of the head, but it dropped off the wall on silent paws as she walked past and hurried along beside her as she walked toward the tower. ‘You can’t come in, you know?’ she told it.

This time there was a soft mewl from the region of her feet and she glanced down. It did look a little skinny and there was no collar.

Nisa sighed. ‘Look, I don’t have any cat food. I’ve got a tin of tuna that must be near its use-by date, but in the morning you’re going to have to go. I’ve got enough on my plate without a cat owning me.’

There was a satisfied sort of prrt sound from below and she let it dart through the door ahead of her when she opened it. To her surprise, it headed for the lift and waited there patiently while she hit the call button. It was certainly a well-behaved sort of moggy.

‘Moggy’ seemed an inappropriate term, Nisa thought, as the lift went up and the cat sat there near her feet, apparently quite happy with the weird, travelling box. It held itself up straight, like a proper lady, and it looked like it had a pedigree of some sort.

‘You an escapee or something?’ Nisa asked. ‘Did you run away? Or was it some fiendish tom that lured you from home with promises of rampant sex and then dumped you on the street?’ The cat gave her what could only be described as a long-suffering look. ‘Maybe not then.’

The tuna was not out of date. Nisa picked through it to make sure there were no bones hidden among the grey-pink flesh, forked the fish out onto a saucer, and put it down on the floor in the tiny space she had as a kitchen. The cat give the fish a sniff, almost seemed to nod, and then looked up at Nisa and gave her a meow before starting to eat. It was almost like she was saying ‘thank you.’

‘Well, you’re a polite sort of cat,’ Nisa said. Then she headed out to the bedroom to strip and take her make-up off. The animal had been hungry, that was for sure. The tuna had been vanishing at a rapid rate. Obviously it had been on the street, and going hungry, for a while. Well, it could not stay. Definitely. It looked like it had breeding so maybe someone was looking for it. She would check with the local police station in the morning.

Feeling tired, she collapsed onto the bed and closed her eyes, intending to cover herself after a while. Then she heard the bed springs give a soft protest and something furry brushed her arm. Opening her eyes and turning her head, she found the cat staring at her from near her shoulder.

‘There is no way you’re sleeping on the bed,’ she said.

Ignoring her, the cat settled against her arm and began to purr. Nisa gave a sigh and prepared herself to move. Except that it was really pleasant lying there with the cat purring happily against her arm. She closed her eyes again. It was weird how relaxing that purr was. Kind of soporific. Kind of… nice. Warm. Pleasant. Really kind of…

~~~

Nisa opened her eyes. At some point she must have got under the covers, because they were on top of her. She could not really remember doing so, but there it was.

The cat was nowhere to be seen, but it could not have got out of the flat. She rolled out of bed and found herself something to wear, shorts and a camisole top, before padding out of the bedroom. She checked the lounge and kitchen, but there was no black feline snoozing anywhere. Neither was the cat in the bathroom when she went to brush her teeth and do a proper job of washing away last night’s make-up.

‘Where’ve you got to?’ Nisa mused aloud, but there was no answering meow and late breakfast was beckoning.

With a bowl of cereal in her stomach and her first coffee of the day on its way there, Nisa settled down in the front room to practise her light spell. Kellog had said she should work on that one and not try anything else for a while. It would teach her the basic form of spells dealing with the summoning of energy. Summoning energy, he had said, would come in use, and she had got the distinct impression that he was not talking about lighting up dark rooms.

She was busy repeatedly attempting to summon up her little ball of light, and discovering she could make it work a little more than half the times she tried, when she realised she was being watched.

‘You’re back,’ she said to the cat.

The cat looked back at her as if to say, ‘I was never gone.’ It was sitting on the carpet a couple of feet away and seemed entirely unconcerned about the ball of glowing energy floating above Nisa’s palm.

‘It’s okay. I mean, I’m not great at this, but it’s safe. I haven’t set light to the carpet or anything.’

The cat stood up, padded calmly over, and gave Nisa’s index finger a lick. It had a softer tongue than most of the cats she had been licked by, but it still rasped.

‘Okay, so magic obviously doesn’t bother you,’ Nisa said. ‘You do look like you should be sitting on a broom behind an old woman in a pointy hat.’ That got her a meow, though what the sound meant was cat-inscrutable. ‘Okay, well I have one more tin of tuna. Then I’m going out to see if I can find out where you came from. You must belong to someone.’

The cat curled under her arm, rubbing its back across her hand, and then curled around her leg before giving her elbow a head-rub.

‘No, you don’t belong to me,’ Nisa told it, though she had the weird feeling she was kidding herself.

~~~

Limehouse Police Station was a fairly typical, yellow-brown brick blockhouse structure with an unhelpful desk sergeant. To be fair to the middle-aged man behind the counter, he was not being unhelpful on purpose. No one, however, considered a lost cat, even one which looked like it should have a pedigree, a matter for the police. Maybe she should consider checking local shop windows, or calling the RSPCA, or Battersea Dogs and Cats Home.

Well, Nisa had tried Battersea before walking to the station. Of course they had had missing cats reported, but they thought the distinctive eyes would have been mentioned, and no one had reported a lost cat with vibrant green eyes to them.

Well, Cat was clearly going to be staying longer. Nisa figured she could check some windows as she walked back via the shops on St Paul’s Way. She was going to need cat food… Oh God, was she going to have to buy a litter tray?!

‘How come the damn cat has to fixate on me?’ she muttered as she marched toward home. ‘She couldn’t find a nice old lady to leech off. Oh no, gotta go for the tall blonde on the top floor of a tower block.’ She got an odd look from someone walking past and frowned. ‘And now she’s got me talking to myself. Great.’

The mini supermarket she got a bag of dry food from did indeed have a couple of notices about lost cats in the window. There was a missing ginger tom who answered to the name of Sparkles. Nisa imagined she knew why he had bolted: what cat wanted to be known as Sparkles? The other cats probably made fun of him when he went out looking for girl cats. ‘Oh look, it’s Sparkles,’ they would say, and then do little kitty snickers behind their paws. There was also a white female named Duchess, which brought on the suggestion that Sparkles had run off to Paris with her. They were probably in a rooftop garret playing jazz piano as Nisa read their wanted posters.

What there was not was a black cat with green eyes, pedigree optional. So Nisa tried asking the shopkeeper whose name was Jones even though she was pretty sure he was Indian.

‘Black cat with green eyes?’ Mister Jones mused. ‘No, not had anyone looking for anything like that.’ He tapped his index finger against his lip, the note Nisa was using to pay for the cat food waving in his other hand. ‘Mrs Carew has a cat, because she buys food here. Haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks. Maybe she’s lost her cat.’

‘I don’t suppose you know where she lives?’

Jones shook his head. ‘Always pays cash, like you. If she paid by card I might know, but she always pays cash. Must live around here though. Not much point in using your local supermarket if you’re not local.’

‘Carew?’ Nisa asked.

‘Jenny, I think,’ Jones said with a nod and rang up the purchase.

Well, she had a potential name, even if it was a long shot. And tomorrow she would have access to the Police National Database. Somehow she doubted that Kellog would consider hunting for the owner of a lost cat to be correct use of police systems, but she could ask.

~~~

The cat eyed the bowl of dry food and then looked up at Nisa. The question was apparent: ‘Where’s my tuna?’

‘This is good for you,’ Nisa told the cat. ‘And I can’t afford to feed you tuna every day. Well, not yet anyway. Maybe when I get my first pay in, but right now this is what I’ve got. I’ll spring for some Sheba or something and dance through the lounge in bare feet when I get paid, okay?’

Apparently mollified, the cat began munching the biscuits. Even to Nisa they sounded dry and she thought to put down a saucer of water, which got her a meow and made her feel unaccountably appreciated. Heading back into the lounge, she curled up on the sofa with her new laptop and began going through websites on statistical analysis.

After about fifteen minutes the cat walked in, but Nisa did not notice until the animal was curling up against her legs as though this was the natural place to sit. Nisa looked down at the cat, and the cat peered at the computer screen before turning green eyes on Nisa.

‘Have you got a name?’ Nisa asked. She got a meow back. ‘Yeah, but I can’t call you that. I mean, I’d probably pronounce it wrong. I mean, your last owner had to call you something.’ Which got her another meow, about the same as the first one. ‘Thanks. Well, I’m not giving you another name. You’re Cat until I get you back where you belong, okay?’

Cat rubbed her head against Nisa’s leg and then settled her chin on her paws. Nisa decided that that was an instruction to get back to work, so she did.

Westminster, June 23rd.

‘What has Mrs Carew done to attract your attention?’ Kellog asked as they sat in the small lounge reserved for lunch in the Rabbit Hole. They had spent the last four hours in something which Nisa took to be a conference room since it came with a huge, wall-mounted TV and a long table. They had studied police procedures. It had been boring, but Nisa had felt she should concentrate because she did not want to screw up in the future.

‘I think I’ve got her cat,’ Nisa replied.

‘Explain.’

The man gave a new meaning to terse. ‘A cat followed me home Saturday night. Black cat, bright green eyes. I think it’s a pedigree one, but no collar and no name tag. Must be someone’s. So I checked Battersea and Limehouse Station, and then I checked the local supermarket and the guy there said that a woman named Jenny Carew used to buy cat food there and hadn’t for a couple of weeks. It’s a long shot and I know it’s not exactly what the PND is for, but–’

‘We need you to help investigate supernatural crimes and incidents,’ Kellog interrupted. ‘Starting with something mundane is good training. You’ve begun well, and I’ll let you look up Mrs Carew to continue that line, but you’ve missed an option which is worth considering if this lead doesn’t pan out.’

‘What option?’ Kellog just looked at her, which obviously meant she was supposed to work it out for herself. She frowned. The woman on the phone at Battersea had said something… She might find the owner if the cat had been… ‘A chip! The cat might have been chipped.’

Kellog gave her a nod. ‘Any vet should be willing to scan for it if you take the cat in. If there is a chip, they should be able to get you the owner’s address. We’ll check the Carew woman after lunch. Hanson would skin you alive if she caught you eating in the computer room.’

Somehow Nisa did not think he was being figurative. ‘What’s on the menu after that? More procedures?’

‘Something more esoteric. You’ll be learning about Bugs. And when your lunch is firmly settled, we’ll be doing judo.’

‘You’re going to teach me to fight?!’

‘I’m going to teach you how to avoid getting killed,’ Kellog replied flatly.

~~~

Jennifer Anne Carew had no criminal record, but she was in the PND, specifically, the record of her death was in there since she had lived alone, died in her home, and it had been three days before the body was discovered. There had been a routine investigation, but the autopsy had concluded the death was natural causes. She had been eighty-three and her heart had given out.

‘So, she’s dead,’ Kellog said. ‘What now?’

‘Well… It could still be her cat, but if it is, she’s not going to tell me. I’ll… go over there and talk to her neighbours. Maybe they’ll recognise the description.’

Kellog gave a nod. ‘I’d suggest getting the ID chip checked as well.’ As far as Nisa could tell, that was about as high as praise got from the man. ‘Right, back to the conference room. It’s time to introduce you to esoteric zoology.’

The TV screen was there for presentations, not watching the football at weekends. Kellog even had a little remote control gizmo which seemed to drive a computer somewhere, and that had been set up with a slide presentation on the basic types of entities XC had to deal with. The first slide showed an upside-down tree structure with ‘Bugs’ written above it, branching down to five types: Daath Beings/Glitches, Fairies, Skinchangers, Spirits, and Vampires. Spirits was further divided into Demons, Elementals, Ghosts, and Other.

‘Daath Beings?’ Nisa asked.

‘All in good time,’ Kellog replied.

‘Okay… Fairies? Seriously?’

Kellog clicked a button and the slide changed to one headed ‘Fairies.’ ‘Actually, most of them dislike the term. Don’t use it to their faces.’

There were, apparently, a number of subdivisions. Trooping fairies liked company, but others were solitary. There were Seelie and Unseelie, which was not the same as good and evil, but the Unseelie were generally more malign.

‘The ones we see these days are almost universally small,’ Kellog told her. ‘They still get the odd Redcap in the Scottish border regions, but you won’t normally see anything bigger than a cat.’

‘Are there any in London?’ Nisa asked.

‘We get fairies around the parks. What you’d think of as fairies: small, winged. If you get acorns thrown at you from a tree, it probably isn’t squirrels.’

The next slide skipped on to Skinchangers which were generally not, as Nisa had expected, werewolves. Werewolves and other such legends tended to be the result of magicians using charmed animal pelts to change shape. The practice went back so far no one knew when it had started. It was one of the primary indications that, while magic was not normal to The System, it was also not entirely unplanned. People had to have been doing ritualised magic when The System began, likely a holdover from previous iterations where it had featured more strongly.

Skinchangers were entities able to shift their forms without spells. There was evidence to suggest they had also been around since the beginning, though some were newer.

‘The most dangerous of them, the Skinwalkers, were once magicians,’ Kellog informed her. ‘The type name is a generalisation of that name. Somehow they internalised both the magic of the pelts they used and the spirit of the hunt they were meant to reinforce with their rituals. The result is an undead monster, able to steal the skin of anything and use it to change into that form. That includes replacing real people. They’re sadistic and they enjoy killing. Modern technology has just made them more dangerous too.’

‘Uh, how?’

‘Refrigeration. The skin they wear won’t rot, but they couldn’t easily store extras until we invented freezers. Now the damn things can swap forms whenever they want.’

Spirits was a long subject. There were the defined ones: ghosts, elementals, and demons. Ghosts were the spirits of dead people, obviously. The theory was that a program was composed of two primary components, one directing the other. When the subsystem representing the body shut down, the mental, directing, component could remain active if there was a bug in its code.

‘Personally I think that’s not quite right,’ Kellog said. ‘I think the continued existence is intended, but they aren’t supposed to stay within this part of The System.’

‘So where are they supposed to go?’

‘Some form of limbo or purgatory. We know the essential components get recycled. Reincarnated, if you like. That doesn’t happen immediately so there’s a storage facility.’

‘You know this?’ Nisa had never really believed in anything beyond death. All that ‘past life experience’ stuff was hogwash and she certainly did not believe in Heaven.

‘Every spirit carries pointers to previous incarnations. That’s why past life regression actually works sometimes. Occasionally a spirit can access those memories without help, but that’s a bug. There are, maybe, a hundred, two hundred thousand basic personalities which get recycled and replicated to make up the whole population. Most of your personality comes from experience based on that basic set of characteristics. Your spirit is five thousand years old, but you are a unique instance of it.’

‘Oh,’ Nisa said.

Kellog went back to the screen to explain that elementals were embodiments of not just the four, or five, elements everyone knew about, but also of other characteristics like hunger, lust, or anger. The emotional elementals tended to get called eidolons, but they were all elemental spirits.

And then there were demons, which were able to materialise more easily than other spirits. Yes, they could be summoned and no, it was not a good idea. Get yourself in hock to a demon for power or wealth, or anything else, and it could pull your soul back to its home when you died. There was evidence that some Bugs were the result of spirits tortured by demons for a couple of centuries before getting returned to the pool.

There were a few other spirit forms which did not fit any of the conventional types. Generally they went in for possessing the living or animating corpses, and most of them were malign. It was general policy to exorcise and destroy where they were found.

Nisa had been expecting Kellog to go on to vampires, but the next slide was headed ‘Daath.’ She frowned at the word and the picture under it, which looked like something out of either an HP Lovecraft novel or a Japanese hentai movie.

‘Wizards call it “Daath,”’ he said, ‘but that’s just a name for things which aren’t meant to exist.’

‘I thought that was what Bugs were.’

‘Yes, but Bugs fit into The System, more or less, and these things don’t. These are entities that somehow manage to cross into the current iteration from previous ones. Exactly how that happens we don’t know. Daath entities can be just about anything from weird worm infestations to things with the power of gods. Glitches fall into the same category since they’re not meant to exist, but Glitches have no sentience.’

‘So Great Cthulhu really does wait in–’

‘Lovecraft made a lot of that up, but he heard stories from people who had witnessed a few things that were probably Daath entities. They aren’t common in this country. We get a lot more Glitches.’

Glitches, it seemed, could take just about any form, but the most common was electrical disturbances. Modern science had come up with ways to deal with those, unless they were exceptionally large. The second most common were temporal anomalies, but those just manifested as images from the past appearing in the present. They were weird and occasionally caused accidents, but they faded quickly and there was no transference of matter in either direction. Nisa asked and even magic could not achieve genuine time travel.

And then Kellog flicked over to the vampires slide, which showed a long list of different things vampires used to suck the life out of people. It started with blood, sure, but then there was ‘vital fluids,’ which was presumably not just blood, youth, breath, heat, fear, sex, bio-electric energy from the nerves, salt, sleep, ‘life force,’ and just about anything else. Each mechanism had its own vampire, which could be material, immaterial, or both.

‘If there are so many,’ Nisa asked, ‘how come we don’t see evidence of them?’

‘They’ve become very good at hiding their activities, or they always were. Lamias steal the breath from sleeping infants. They can’t affect anything older than about six months. The child appears to die in the crib and, now, we blame Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. If someone winds up in hospital because their neurotransmitters have been drained, or there’s almost no salt in their system, they’ve got some unknown medical condition. We’re exceptionally good at rationalising the unusual in this age of science. A couple of hundred years ago people would have been out burning the nearest old lady with a wart. Before that it was plague or evil spirits. Frankly, people have got worse at dealing with the supernatural as they’ve decided not to believe in it.’

‘You said the memory loss thing from the mind control was common,’ Nisa commented. ‘I guess a lot of them can swoop in, suck someone nearly to death, and leave, and the victim is clueless about what happened, like me.’

‘It is a common side effect, yes.’ There was just a little tension in his voice. It was barely there, but Nisa could hear it. He was anticipating a question and unsure how to answer it.

She asked it anyway. ‘So, what kind attacked me?’

Kellog just stared at her for several seconds until she began to feel distinctly uncomfortable. Then he said, ‘I was informed that telling you the exact nature of the vampire that attacked you would be… stressful.’

Nisa blinked at him and then scanned down the list. She had not been bitten and her food had not been salty after the attack, and she had had no trouble sleeping. There was fear or the neurological thing, but what was stressful about that? If she had been terrified, she could not remember it. She had not been cold and she was still the same age and…

Her eyes widened as it hit her. ‘Oh my God, I was raped.’

Kellog took a step toward her, hesitated. His fists clenched. ‘I–’ he began.

Nisa shook her head. ‘I don’t remember it. None of it. It didn’t happen.’ She wondered who she was trying to convince. Just the way he was acting suggested that her inference was correct. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Get on with the show.’

He looked like he was going to say something else, but he turned sharply and clicked through to the next slide: more detail on the blood-drinking variety of vamp. Nisa settled down to learn.

When he got to a slide labelled ‘Incubi and Succubi,’ he clicked straight through to the next one.

Tower Hamlets, June 24th.

Nisa woke up, biting back a scream, and fumbled for the light switch beside her bed. Her eyes flicked around the room, terror in them, but there were no faceless figures. She was not strapped to a bench, spread and open. They were not going to…

She lay down and curled into a tight ball. Her stomach ached. There was still no memory of what had actually happened, but somehow that just made it worse. She was trying hard not to cry when she felt a hot tongue lick at her cheek and looked up into a pair of green eyes.

‘It’s okay,’ she said to the cat. ‘I was… attacked by… You wouldn’t understand any of it, but it’s bad and I don’t… I don’t quite know how to deal with it yet.’

Cat gave a consoling mewl, almost as if she did understand, and licked Nisa’s cheek again. Then she curled up against Nisa’s arm and stroking the animal between the ears seemed like it might help. Sleeping was going to be hard and Cat was warm and appeared to be genuinely concerned at her distress, and…

The purring started, softly at first, but growing in intensity. Cat was happy and, somehow, that seemed to just soak into Nisa through the throbbing purr. The ache in her stomach subsided. She felt warm, loved. Her mind drifted with the rising and falling tone, and it felt good. And after a minute of that, Nisa drifted back into dreamless sleep.

Westminster.

‘You look tired,’ Kellog commented when Nisa walked into the conference room.

‘Nightmare,’ Nisa told him. ‘I guess I went from the denial stage straight to depression. I woke up in the middle of the night from an even more twisted version of my usual nightmares. Thankfully cat purrs appear to be very soporific.’

‘The cat you found purred you to sleep?’ One of his eyebrows had gone up. Nisa had always been jealous of people who could do that.

‘Uh-huh. Thinking about it, she did it the first night too.’

‘Interesting. Also, I don’t think you skipped the anger phase. I still have bruises from yesterday’s judo lessons.’

Nisa’s lips quirked. ‘You know, I didn’t think you had a sense of humour.’

‘I don’t,’ he replied, but he turned away quickly and she thought she saw his mouth shifting into a smile as he clicked the screen on. ‘You’ll sleep tonight. I’m going to shift the judo up a notch.’

Tower Hamlets, June 28th.

Hawgood Street was maybe four hundred yards from Leopold Street, if you could fly, and certainly within walking distance. It was part of a set of roads which marked the edges of Furze Green, a small park, and off the main roads, which had to have been useful if you kept a cat.

Despite the short walk, Nisa felt like she had trudged miles. Despite Kellog’s best efforts, she had had two more nightmares during the week. Cat had lulled her back to sleep both times and Nisa had to admit that she was kind of hoping that Mrs Carew had not owned a black cat with vibrant green eyes… Because of Kellog’s enthusiastic judo training, Nisa felt like her back, especially her shoulders and butt, was one, livid bruise. They were doing ten hours a day, and then she was going home and spending four hours on magic and statistics. After that she was so exhausted that she was amazed anything had disturbed her, but still she had managed to wake up screaming, and Cat had been there to help every time.

There was a ‘For Sale’ notice up outside the small house that Jennifer Carew had once occupied. The place looked empty and rather forlorn, as though it had been lived in and loved, and now its owner had gone and it was alone.

Nisa walked to the next house along and pressed the doorbell. The man who answered it was wearing a T-shirt with the logo of an expensive gym on it, and jogging pants. He had the look of someone who paid cursory attention to his physique. His haircut probably cost more than Nisa’s old job had earned her in a week. Tower Hamlets had its fair share of up-and-coming types due to the proximity of places like ExCel. There was a lot of new building going on. This guy probably worked in the City, making money lending poor people’s money to richer people.

‘Yes?’ he asked in a tone that suggested she was already wasting his time. He was not impressed with her hair, or her cropped T-shirt, or her faded jeans.

‘Hi, I was wondering if you knew anything about your old neighbour, Mrs Carew. Like, did she have a cat?’

‘Who is it, honey,’ came from behind him, followed by the owner of the voice who turned out to be an attractive, busty blonde. No wonder he was unimpressed by Nisa’s slimmer physique.

‘She’s asking about the witch.’

The woman, presumably his wife, gave him a playful slap on the shoulder. ‘She wasn’t a witch, even if she did have a cat.’

‘I don’t suppose you know what it looked like?’ Nisa asked. ‘I found a stray and someone suggested it might be hers…’

‘Black,’ the woman said and frowned. ‘It had really bright, green eyes. Um… Faline. She used to call it Faline. She died, you know?’

‘Yeah, I’d heard that. Heart attack, as I understand it.’

‘Summoning demons, more like,’ the man put in. ‘Woman was strange. So was the cat. Thing used to glare at me.’

Nisa gave them both a smile. She felt like glaring at him too and she had only known him for a couple of minutes. ‘Thanks. That’s all I needed.’

‘And it used to get everywhere,’ the man muttered. ‘Seemed like it could walk through walls. You be careful. That cat’s probably possessed.’

‘Right,’ Nisa said. ‘Well… thanks.’ She turned and started back to the corner with Furze Street.

Of course, the alarming thing was that the cat could be possessed, but somehow she was pretty sure that she was just a cat. And apparently she was now her cat because no one else owned her. There was Battersea… But there was no way she could do that to the animal. She really was going to have to invest in a litter tray.

~~~

‘Faline?’ Nisa called out as she walked into her flat carrying a plastic bag in which there was a litter tray and a couple of tubs of Sheba. In her other hand was a bag of kitty litter, and she felt like her arm was about to drop off.

There was a prrt and the cat bounced onto the back of the sofa looking rather pleased. It was a sort of ‘Thank God, you’ve figured out who I am’ look, and that settled it if nothing else did.

‘Okay, so you’re Faline then.’ Another prrt. ‘Well, I guess you know that your old owner is dead…’ That got a rather mournful meow and Faline sagged down onto the back of the sofa looking distinctly sad. ‘I’m… uh, I’m sorry, but everyone dies eventually. I should really take you to a cat’s home, but… Well, you’ve been there for me and I guess… Look, I’m kind of assuming you want to stay here?’

Faline lifted her head enough that she could tilt it quizzically. Well, of course she wanted to stay here. Had she not gone to all that trouble to get here?

Nisa shook her head. The damn job was making her suspicious and she had not even started doing the real work!

‘Well then, to celebrate you moving in, I got you some nice food.’ Prrt! ‘I am not dancing through the lounge for this one though. I ache too much.’ Nisa started for the kitchen. ‘And you do know what a litter tray is for, right?’ Meow. ‘Good. I have no idea what you’ve been doing before now. The guy next door to Mrs Carew’s house said you could walk through walls…’ Meow-fft! ‘No, I didn’t like him either. And I didn’t believe a word he said, but I have this sneaking suspicion you left presents in his slippers or something.’

There was no sound in reply and Nisa looked down to find Faline sitting near her feet looking like butter would not have considered melting in her mouth.

‘I am going to give you this food, and I am going to completely ignore the fact that you seem to understand every word I’m saying.’

Prrt!

Westminster, June 30th.

‘You know,’ Nisa said at lunch, ‘I was kind of expecting you to teach me some magic.’

Kellog chewed his sandwich for a few seconds, swallowed, and then said, ‘First, we need you up to speed on police procedures and the kind of thing you can expect to meet outside this place. Second, a lot of the time the threats are physical, so we need you to have basic unarmed combat sorted. I know you’ve done some boxing, but throws and falls are more essential.’

‘And third,’ Norbery added since he was sitting with them, ‘we have no idea how to teach you magic.’ Kellog scowled at him and he just shrugged.

‘A wizard and a witch, and neither of you can teach me any spells?’ Nisa asked incredulously.

‘He’s right,’ Kellog relented. ‘Magic is as much about… the way your mind works–’

‘Style or paradigm,’ Norbery put in.

‘That,’ Kellog went on, ‘as it is about knowledge. One of the reasons Hanson wanted you aboard is that you represent the new view of magic. This “Reality Hacking” you discovered is popping up in various places and it’s a different paradigm from the ones we employ. We can give advice, suggest things, and show you spells we can do so that you can attempt to do the same, but teach you? No, you’re on your own.’

‘You’re practising, I assume?’ Norbery asked.

‘Well, I’ve been summoning up lights.’

Norbery gave Kellog a grin. ‘Energy summoning? Your favourite thing.’

‘She knows how to do it and it’s useful for more forceful countermeasures,’ Kellog replied, refusing to rise to the bait.

‘Then perhaps you should show her one of your more violent countermeasures.’ The witch turned to Nisa, adding a conspiratorial tone to his voice. ‘He just loves fireballs, so long as there are no witnesses.’

‘I guess that would be a bit of a giveaway,’ Nisa commented. ‘Chucking a fireball at someone isn’t exactly kosher science.’

‘More than that, it’s harder. People who don’t believe in what you’re doing make it more difficult to do it. That’s why I prefer more subtle effects. Things people won’t notice take less power and are easier to achieve. Because they aren’t seen, they produce less Probrum. Normal people are the eyes and ears of The System and letting it see you doing “unnatural” things is never good.’

‘So… the text I read is a bit vague. What can you do?’

Norbery twitched his head at Kellog. ‘Get him to check you out a couple of textbooks, in English, not Latin. Something on wizardry, witchcraft, maybe alchemy. Your paradigm relies as much on what you can imagine doing as what you know and the broader your understanding, the better. Besides, you should know what you’re up against if you face a caster. Am I right, Field Agent?’

Kellog nodded. ‘Yes… Yes it’s a good point. Bugs and Glitches aren’t the only things you’ll find doing things we have to stop.’

‘Great,’ Nisa muttered.

‘I understand you’ve inherited a cat,’ Norbery said, apparently going for a brighter subject.

‘Uh-huh. Well, someone has to and she seems to like me, and Mrs Carew isn’t going to be looking after her.’

Norbery nodded. ‘A female then?’

‘Faline,’ Nisa replied, nodding.

‘Good. The males can be troublesome.’

Nisa grinned. ‘That works for humans too.’

Tower Hamlets.

Faline watched Nisa struggling through the door with a pile of books tied together with string and refrained from winding herself around her new owner’s legs until the load had been relieved.

‘Thank you for waiting,’ Nisa said, picking the cat up. ‘I’m happy to see you too.’ That got her cheek butted by a furry head and a burst of purr which dispelled the ache in Nisa’s muscles long enough for her to put food out for the cat and settle down on the sofa to read.

Kellog had decided she might as well have some basic texts at her fingertips, so long as she remembered to keep them out of sight if she had visitors. Nisa had assured him that she rarely had visitors, and when she did they were mostly interested in her naked body, not her library. Kellog had given her a look.

All the books were modern, rather stiffly written, textbooks, no more than twenty years old. Even the one on Druids was based on modern practice, though it stressed that those practices had been handed down since the Dark Ages. Somehow Nisa suspected the author was protesting too much. There was one on wizardry, another on alchemy, and a study of voodoo, but the witchcraft one seemed the most modern and the most accessible. She decided to start with that.

Faline returned from the kitchen, licking her lips, and apparently decided that she needed more attention. On the other hand, she seemed happy enough sitting in Nisa’s lap as long as she could read the book along with her owner. Nisa tried scratching her between her ears, but the purring made it hard to concentrate so after a few seconds of that they just settled for reading in silence.

Witches, it seemed, were into the kind of thing that you would expect witches to be into. There was a big section on herbs and their uses. The magic they used had a sort of elemental focus, but there were parts of the book dedicated to dealing with departed spirits and the ‘walking dead.’ There was a lot of stuff about how using your powers to cause harm tended to backfire. The universe frowned upon those who wrought ill. Nisa got the distinct impression that the author knew nothing about The System and considered what they did to be actual magic rather than bending the rules of a simulation.

That begged the question of whether this whole ‘System’ thing was real, or just a theory. Maybe the world was real, and The System was just another paradigm. Or a working theory to explain something which could not be explained. Were those who believed in it just trying to rationalise a universe which did not work the way they wanted?

Faline’s paw stretched out and landed on the page Nisa was reading. Well, there was a picture of a cat on it.

‘On finding a familiar,’ Nisa read. ‘So you think I need a familiar then?’ Meow. ‘I’m not actually a witch, you know?’ Meow. The paw drew back and Nisa turned the page, scanning over the text. ‘Says here that the skilled witch can communicate with their familiar through magic of the spirit.’ Prrt! ‘Oh, so you want to be able to demand Sheba directly then.’ Reproachful meow. ‘Well… it’s something to practise that doesn’t involve summoning lights. We’ll try it later.’ Prrt!

~~~

There had been some more practical advice in the book along with a lot of theoretical stuff. Gathering power from the ambient energy of the universe, it said, tended to reduce the Probrum the caster ended up accumulating, and that seemed like a valid sort of thing to practise too.

Faline sat in front of Nisa, who sat cross-legged on the floor in the bedroom. The bedroom, she had decided, was where she was most comfortable doing magic, so that was where she did it.

‘Okay, so I need to channel the energy around me…’ Nisa mused. She lifted her arms and spread her fingers, and tried to imagine that energy was drawing in from around her. It felt less like drawing and more like dragging. ‘And I need to focus on your mind…’ How the Hell did you focus on a mind? Think catty thoughts? No, that was going to make her mean or something. She was pretty sure she had to be precise about it. The text on Reality Hacking had said that you needed to set your mind to a thought of exactly what you wanted to happen. ‘So it’s like a Vulcan mind meld, right? No, too deep. I want to be able to hear what you’re thinking. That should be enough…’

It kept slipping through her fingers, but she remembered the same sort of thing happening when she had been learning to summon the light. At least she was not having to learn to set her mind the right way now.

It took her nearly two minutes before she managed to hold on to the energy and get the phrasing of the spell right and suddenly…

Faline gave a meow and Nisa heard ‘That’s much better’ in her mind.

‘Holy fuck, I did it!’

‘I don’t believe profanity is appropriate,’ Faline commented.

‘Wait a minute,’ Nisa said, frowning. ‘Stop me if I’m wrong, but cats should not know what “profanity” means.’

‘Why not? We hear enough of it. The man next door constantly referred to me as “that fucking cat.”’

‘Yes, but… Forgive the statement, but you don’t have the brains to be talking like this. Is this some artefact of the spell?’

‘I,’ Faline said, licking her paw in a distinctly proud manner, ‘am a most superior cat.’

‘Yeah… obviously.’

‘Jennifer was a witch. I am a Witch Cat. Much better than a typical domestic breed.’

‘Let me get this straight,’ Nisa said, frowning. ‘Mrs Carew was actually a witch and you were, what? Her familiar?’

‘In a manner of speaking, yes.’

‘So when she died, you went looking for a new… uh… I don’t want to say “owner.”’

The cat gave a cough. ‘I prefer “companion.” There was nothing I could do to help her so, yes, I went looking for a new companion. And I found one. You’re young, and untrained, and your magic is strange, but I’m most happy to have found you. I was worried I would have to go into the city and find some smelly wizard.’

‘I know a wizard and he doesn’t smell.’

‘Probably doesn’t do alchemy then, or not much. When you have a cat’s nose, wizards smell.’

Nisa shook her head. ‘I never thought I’d be having a conversation like this with a cat.’

‘I’m quite sure there are many things you will do in the future which you never thought would happen, Nisa,’ Faline said. ‘I know something of these people you have become involved with and what they do. It can be very dangerous. You need to study, hard.’

‘You know,’ Nisa said warily, ‘I can’t help but think that an intelligent cat sounds like a Bug, and I’m supposed to hunt those.’

‘Witch Cats fall into a grey area as far as your masters are concerned. I’m sure your tutor is painting things as very much black and white, but he will eventually have to admit that not everything considered unnatural is bad. If it were, he would have to eliminate you, and himself.’ There was a little pause and then she said, ‘What happened to you that makes you wake up screaming, Nisa?’

‘Part of the problem is that I don’t remember. I know, but… I’d been practising the light spell, a lot. I attracted an incubus. His mind control made me forget what he did, but I know what they do…’

Faline got to her feet and padded over, rubbing herself against Nisa’s leg. Nisa picked her up and a furry head rubbed against her cheek.

‘I am sorry that your first successful spell brought you such harm,’ Faline said. ‘I will help where I can.’ She began to purr and the pain in Nisa’s chest, which she had barely noticed, was soothed away.

‘You’ve already helped a lot,’ Nisa whispered.

Westminster, July 1st.

The paper target twenty or so yards down the small firing range vanished in a blaze of flame and Kellog turned to look at Nisa who was watching with a bright, wide-eyed grin on her face.

‘Basic fireball spell,’ he said.

‘Awesome!’ she replied.

Kellog gave a grunt. ‘Do you think you could do something like that?’ He turned again, pressing a button which pulled the target holder back along a rail so that he could fix a new one in place.

‘Uh, I guess. It’s summon the energy, shape it, and then throw it, right?’

‘Precisely.’ He clipped the target in place and cycled it back toward a rather closer mark than he had used himself. ‘When you’re ready,’ he added, stepping back.

Just as she had done when trying to talk to Faline, Nisa formed the image of energy flowing in toward her in her mind. It felt like it kept slipping and, over a minute later, she was feeling rather embarrassed even though Kellog was watching her with his usual stoic expression. Sure she had enough juice, she curled her hands around empty space in front of her and watched as a glowing, blue-white ball of light appeared between her hands. She actually giggled and then threw it toward the target, which vaporised very nicely. Sparks danced along the metal holder strip and up the cables.

‘What,’ Kellog said, ‘was that?’

‘Uh… I think I over-cooked it. Plasma bolt?’ She was feeling dizzy and when she reached out to steady herself against the wall, sparks jumped and she yelped.

‘Indeed. Perhaps something… less cooked. You’ve got some backlash effects as well. The energy felt slippery? You kept trying because you weren’t sure you had enough?’ Nisa nodded weakly. ‘Your control needs improving, but that will come with time. No one learns magic in a few weeks. In the meantime, might I suggest you keep away from anything electronic until the static stops?’

‘Right… Does this kind of thing happen a lot?’

‘Essentially, magic is unnatural. Doing it badly creates minor Glitches. I’ve lost my eyebrows more than once. I spent several hours hiding in my room one day because I’d turned scarlet. Minor electrical effects, tiredness, small burns, those are quite common.’

‘And people keep doing it?’

‘Of course. The rewards outweigh the disadvantages. Mostly.’

‘Encouraging, Kellog,’ Nisa told him. ‘That’s really encouraging. I think I need to sit down for a few minutes. Damn.’ Then the door gave her a shock when she tried to leave.

Tower Hamlets, July 3rd.

‘Hey, Faline?’ Nisa called out. The cat was munching biscuits in the kitchen, but that was not very far away, and the spell worked over several yards.

‘Yes, Nisa,’ the voice came back.

‘Do you know a cat called Sparkles?’

There was silence, and Nisa wondered whether she might have messed up the duration when she bumped up the range. Then Faline padded into the room and bounced onto the arm of the sofa to peer at Nisa.

‘He prefers not to be called that,’ the cat said.

‘What does he prefer?’

‘I believe “Yes, you can have me any way you like” would be his preferred form of address. Toms have only one thing on their mind.’

‘Humans are the same, believe me.’

‘They are not, believe me. Why do you ask about him?’

‘He’s missing. So is a white cat named Duchess.’

‘She does like her name, and she acts like it too. Are you thinking of looking for them?’

‘Well, I thought maybe you might know the local kitty hangouts, places they might be hiding? Unless they have eloped to a garret in Paris.’

‘Paris?’

‘Uh… never mind. Do you know where they might be?’

Faline ducked her head away. It looked a little odd from a cat. ‘I… might, but I don’t want to take you there.’

‘What? It’s breaking the cat code of confidentiality or something?’

‘No. Cats are generally very gossipy. I’m not sure they’re there and I think… If they are there, all we’ll find is corpses.’

‘We’ll find?’

The cat gave a sound which sounded a bit like a sigh. ‘You’re determined to find them, aren’t you?’

‘I’m supposed to be honing my investigative skills.’

‘Then I’m not going to let you go there alone,’ Faline said.

~~~

At the far end of Hawgood Street, Gale Street swung back up toward Devons Road. They were busy putting in new builds, flats mostly, but they had not got to the corner quite yet.

There were signs up outside what looked like an old industrial building indicating that it was dangerous, unstable, and due for demolition. Normally that would not have stopped the local kids from prising open some of the boards on the windows and sneaking inside to smoke or fuck, or something less healthy. Nisa could see no evidence that they had done so with this building. There were gaps big enough for animals to crawl in, but nothing large enough for a human.

Faline, riding on Nisa’s shoulder, was getting more nervous the closer they got. She hopped down as they arrived and sniffed around the windows. Looking back, she gave a meow, but no words came through.

‘Great time for the spell to wear off,’ Nisa muttered and followed the cat over to the window. She grimaced. Even for a human nose, there was a disgusting scent of decay coming through the broken glass and wooden boards. ‘God, what is that?’ All she got was a meow in reply.

Trying a couple of the boards, she found a loose one which left just enough of a gap for her to squeeze through. Faline gave a very worried-sounding meow and then jumped after her, and Nisa picked her up before moving any further into the building.

It looked like it had been an office for some sort of industrial site. Nisa knew that there was scrub ground behind it, awaiting redevelopment, and this had been where the admin was done, she guessed. The room they had entered was an old office. There was no furniture, but there were bits of paper with some sort of company letterhead on it scattered around on the dusty, concrete floor. Everything useful in the place had probably been torn out already. Even the office door had been torn off and the hinges removed.

The smell, and it had to be bad to be detectable just outside the window, was coming from deeper inside. Outside it was still daylight; there was maybe another hour until the sun fell below the horizon, an hour after that until full dark. Light fell in through the opened board, but beyond the doorway it fell into deep shadows and patches of light that were managing to creep in through smaller gaps.

‘You know,’ Nisa whispered, ‘this is the bit in the horror movie where I’m screaming, “Don’t go in there, you stupid fuck!” and they go in and get eaten by zombies.’

Faline gave a soft whine which sounded like a suggestion that it was good advice, but Nisa edged closer to the door. The smell was stronger there; decay and rot mingled together with something else to form something you could taste as much as smell. Nisa swallowed hard and tried to breathe through her mouth.

There was not enough light. The office had led out onto the reception area. The windows here were more intact, and the double doors at the front were still there. A few shafts of light made it through, but they served more to make the shadows deeper than to illuminate anything. There seemed to be shapes in the gloom near a flight of stairs which led up from the back of the room. Shapes, but nothing more distinct.

Focussing her will and concentrating on the form she wanted, Nisa did not waste her time drawing the energy from around her. She reached out her hand, fingers slightly cupped, and willed the light to appear. It took a few seconds to get it right, but suddenly it was there, illuminating the area around Nisa. She swallowed. The floor had red stains on it.

The shapes looked more like animals now, but none of them were moving. She pushed the light away from her, throwing it out toward the staircase because the last thing she wanted to do right now was go any further into this building. Her fists clenched and she bit back on the urge to scream. Lying beside the staircase were the bodies of several animals, cats and dogs from the sizes and shapes. Every single one of them had been skinned.

‘Oh shit,’ Nisa breathed. Somewhere above her, floorboards creaked, and Faline hissed, her eyes on the stairs. ‘Right,’ Nisa said to her, keeping her voice to a whisper. ‘That was probably just the building settling, but…’ She backed to the window, pushing her cat through ahead of her and then, reluctantly, turning her back on the interior to squeeze through.

By the time she was outside, Faline was watching from the other side of the street, and Nisa joined her, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she went. She had no idea how she was going to explain how her cat had led her to this place, but skinned animals suggested one of two things: either there was a serial killer in the making or there was a Skinwalker in Tower Hamlets.

July 4th.

Kellog had taken Faline’s part in the discovery with his usual stoicism. He had chewed Nisa out for going in alone, but he had to admit she had no way of knowing what was in there until she looked.

He had not allowed her to go in with him to check the building out, but he had not gone in alone. She had had to wait while he went in with an Armed Response Team who seemed to know more about what they might be facing than Nisa would have expected. Then again, Exceptional Circumstances had been set up by the Home Office, so clearly more people knew about the whole supernatural thing than just a few individuals. Some of Spike’s conspiracy theories appeared to have more validity than Wallace gave them credit for.

Whatever had been upstairs, if there had been anything, had gone and Kellog had told her to go home. He would pick her up in the morning, he had told her, and they would go over the scene once forensics had taken a good, hard look.

Nisa was yawning when she emerged from the tower and walked over to Kellog’s unmarked BMW. It was not exactly top-of-the-line, but it was a nice car, though Nisa would have liked black rather than the metallic silver. The seats were comfortable.

‘Tough night?’ Kellog asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

‘Nightmares. At least I wasn’t being sexually assaulted this time.’

‘Skinned alive?’

‘Flayed, actually.’

‘Did you have breakfast?’

‘I thought maybe that might be a bad idea,’ Nisa replied.

Kellog gave a nod and pulled the car out of the small car park. ‘You may be right.’

As he drove down Devons Road, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a wallet. ‘You’ll need this,’ he said, handing it over. ‘We were going to wait until you’d finished basic, but given the circumstances…’

Nisa took the slim leather item and flipped it open. She found herself looking at a picture of her own face set into a Metropolitan Police warrant card. It took her a moment to notice the oddity. ‘I’m a sergeant?’

‘It’s a technicality. It lets you order the constables around if you have to. Do not have to. Abuse that and I’ll be the one doing the skinning.’

‘You got your rank the hard way, right?’

‘Yes, I did.’

‘But you’re American.’

He glanced at her. ‘Noticed the accent. I try to sound English when I’m in public. Yes, I’m American. I came over here to study European history and stayed. We’re here.’

They had put plastic sheets over the doorway of the building and there were uniformed officers standing outside it. There was also a boxy incident support vehicle parked up and Norbery was visible in the back of it dressed in a distinctly unbecoming blue jumpsuit. He spotted the car and by the time Nisa and Kellog were approaching, he had outfits for them too.

Along with the suit, there were rubber gloves and little booties to go over your shoes. And there were the hats which were designed to stop your hair ending up in the crime scene. They were going to look like prats, but it had to be done.

Norbery watched them dressing and Nisa yawning. ‘Bad night?’ he asked.

‘She got flayed,’ Kellog informed him.

‘Remind me when we come out but I’ve got something for you.’

‘What?’ Nisa asked.

‘Something to help you sleep,’ Norbery replied before turning and heading for the curtains.

The uniforms wanted to see their warrant cards before letting them in, which was fine by Nisa because she was getting a whiff of the same smell as last night, even through the plastic, and she had no real desire to get in quickly.

‘To clarify,’ Norbery said as they entered the hall, ‘you came no further than the door of that office?’

Nisa looked to her right where a lamp had been set up to illuminate the area around the door. ‘Uh-huh. Didn’t put a foot inside this… room.’ Her eyes caught the smudges on the concrete floor. ‘Can I look closer?’

‘Be my guest,’ Norbery said. He was wearing a rather proud smile.

On the floor, inside the reception room and a couple of feet into the office, were marks which looked a lot like scuffed footprints made in blood. Not wet blood; someone had tracked dried blood on their shoes onto previously unmarked floor. No, she decided after a second, not on their shoes. She could make out what looked alarmingly like toes on one of the prints.

‘I’d have noticed those when I came in if they’d been there before,’ Nisa said.

‘I dare say you might have,’ Norbery agreed.

‘And I didn’t make them. I was wearing trainers.’

‘You noticed that detail then?’

‘Uh… yeah. So there was someone here.’

Kellog gave a grunt of displeasure. It was about the most emotion Nisa had ever seen him display. ‘Something would be a better description.’

Nisa stood up, feeling suddenly cold. ‘How bad are Skinwalkers?’ she asked. The term was still used in America for shamanic practices of animal imitation, but they were almost certainly not talking about that kind of creature. Kellog had not got to the point of giving her details on them.

‘Physically? No stronger or faster than a human. They’re smart, and besides the ability to mimic anyone and anything they can get the skin off, they’re usually skilled magicians, which you are not. The real problem is that they’re difficult to kill. You can put them down, but killing them needs magic, an acid bath, or a bonfire.’

‘In this case,’ Norbery put in, ‘you might have been lucky. The evidence suggests it was a young one.’

‘They can breed?’

‘Heavens no. No genitalia. We’re unsure of the mechanism, but they seem to spontaneously mutate from normal humans. It’s rare, very rare, thank God. It starts about puberty, we think, but they generally show signs before then. Unfortunately, those signs are roughly the same as a human serial murderer, and they often go undetected anyway.’

‘The animals,’ Nisa said.

Norbery gave a nod. ‘Serial killers often start by killing animals, but in this case they were being used for skinning practice. Unfortunately, they had moved up to larger prey too.’ He turned and started for the stairs. ‘I hope you have a strong stomach.’

‘It’s holding up so far,’ Nisa replied, though she was not sure she really wanted to follow him.

When she saw it, in one of the rooms on the upper floor, Nisa was moderately impressed with herself for not losing it there and then. Of course, she had known it was going to be bad and had steeled herself, but the smell alone was enough to make her want to retch.

The figure, strung up by its arms from an exposed ceiling beam, had enough definition left to tell her that the victim had been female. Not too tall, maybe five-eight, and probably fairly well muscled though Nisa was not used to having to judge that by looking at bare muscle fibres. The eyes were gone, which was almost an advantage, but the maggots which had removed them were crawling out of the exposed eye sockets as well as a few other wounds in the flesh.

‘The knife work is sloppy,’ Norbery said, his voice flat. Even he was having to suppress his emotions to work around this. ‘There are cuts into the muscle which we don’t see in older Skinwalkers’ victims. I need to get her back to the lab to run a proper analysis, but I think she was not much older than Nisa. We’ll have to run dental records and DNA, and if that fails we’ll try facial reconstruction. There’s some evidence of strangulation being the cause of death, but that’s partially based on a lack of deep tissue wounds.’

‘Only one?’ Nisa asked, her voice sounding choked.

‘One human, six cats, four dogs.’

‘Shit. And it got away. I disturbed it, couldn’t contain it, and it got away.’

‘We know it’s out there,’ Kellog said. ‘If you hadn’t gone looking, it would have remained hidden, maybe for years, and become a greater threat. We haven’t had a fully developed Skinwalker in London since before I started with XC. We’re better off knowing it’s here than not.’

Nisa turned to look at him. She was a little surprised that he was saying something to make her feel better, but he was. ‘Thanks,’ she said.

‘Just stating a fact,’ he replied before turning to leave. ‘Come on, field trip’s over. Back to school.’

~~~

‘This,’ Nisa said as she poured cat milk into a saucer, ‘is from Norbery and Kellog for helping find the Skinwalker’s lair.’

That got a meow. Nisa had not cast the telepathy spell yet.

‘Just be careful or they’ll have you on a contract too.’ She put the saucer down and Faline started lapping at it with obvious eagerness. Nisa grinned and walked back out to the lounge to get her own present.

Norbery had made it himself, apparently. It appeared to be a collection of twigs and thread, woven together into something a bit like a dreamcatcher, which was appropriate since its purpose was to help her sleep soundly. Picking it out of the bag she had carried it home in, she took it through to the bedroom and looped the string it was attached to over the post at the corner of the bedhead. Once activated, Norbery had said, it would work for about a week and she should sleep like a baby. And all she had to do to activate it was hang it on the bed. So… Well, she hoped it worked because after visiting a charnel house in the morning, she was pretty sure sleep was going to be hard to come by.

Study was not coming easily either. Pages about statistical pattern analysis kept showing her images of flayed human bodies. The book on wizardry was turning into gibberish in front of her eyes, though that might have been the book rather than her recent experience.

‘You should get out, relax,’ Faline suggested when Nisa did cast the spell. ‘You didn’t go to that club you like last week. You’ve done nothing but study and get thrown around by the wizard.’

‘It doesn’t seem fair,’ Nisa told her. ‘I can’t take you. Isn’t there a kitty club you can go to? Night on the tiles, sort of thing?’

‘Oh yes, there’s a place down by the cut that serves rum and cat milk. When the catnip starts getting scattered around it can get pretty wild, I can tell you.’

‘Really?’

‘No, of course not! Did you take gullible pills or something this morning?’

‘Uh… I guess I’m just not used to the idea of a cat being sarcastic.’

Faline shook her head, sinking her chin onto her paws. ‘All cats are sarcastic, I just happen to be better at it.’

Poplar.

‘You’ve got a cat?’ Jenna did not sound like this was a believable idea. ‘I never took you for a cat person.’

‘I did,’ Lena said. ‘There’s something a little feline about her as it is, and there’s the magic. Is it black?’

‘Yes, she is,’ Nisa supplied.

‘See? Obvious.’

‘How’s the magic going?’ Spike asked.

‘Huh,’ Nisa grunted. ‘I’m nose deep in statistical analysis, so I’ve barely had time to think about that.’ She thought she had sold the lie effectively. Spike certainly took the bait.

‘How’s the statistical analysis going then?’

‘It’s hard work. I think I can do what they want, and maybe get a bit more out of it. I’m supposed to be looking for patterns in the stats by borough and across the city. It’s less a question of how to do it and more a question of what to look for.’

Spike sucked at his teeth. Apparently he was just being reluctant to help the police force because the next thing out of his mouth was a suggestion. ‘Don’t restrict yourself to the crime statistics. There are bound to be other factors involved. When someone’s training an expert system or neural network, they have to include all sorts of stuff that seems irrelevant, but actually affects the way the system works.’

‘Like?’

‘Uh… when people are on holiday, school holidays must be a factor. The phase of the moon. The weather.’

‘Seriously?’ Wallace said. ‘The weather?’

‘Violent crime tends to occur more in hotter countries. And I’ve heard a lot of crime goes up when the moon’s full. Whether that’s because people go crazy or there’s just more light…’ The programmer frowned. ‘I know it’s unlike me to suggest talking to the police, but maybe you should ask some beat cops about what they think affects the stats, then you can check for correspondence.’

‘Thanks, Spike,’ Nisa said. ‘I’ve got budget for a year, but if I can’t get results they might pull it.’ Like there was much chance of that.

‘Who knew?’ Jenna said, grinning. ‘Inside that rebellious, anarchy-loving body there’s a good citizen who just wants to help.’

Spike glowered at her. ‘Tell anyone else that and I’ll hack into HMRC and change your tax code.’

Tower Hamlets, July 5th.

It was a bright, summer day in July and the thought of staring at books for hours was enough to make Nisa grumpy. She had had a good night’s sleep, and the air from the open window smelled fresh; Hell, even the dust on the windowsills she had not cleaned all winter seemed remarkably less visible. She decided that Faline needed to stretch her legs, even if the feline in question did not. So she dug her bikini out from the bottom of her knickers drawer, put a T-shirt and jeans over the top and, with her reluctant cat riding on her shoulder, headed off to Mile End Park.

London had a lot of parks and Mile End was neither the best nor the worst. It was next to Mile End Stadium so there were more than a few sports facilities around the place, but if you went up past the BMX track there were patches of grass you could lie on in relative seclusion and trees for Faline to run around. Nisa was not really sure Faline was the kind of cat who ran around in the long grass, but as soon as they stopped and Nisa unrolled the towel she had brought to lie on, there was a black, feline streak heading for the trees.

Nisa grinned and started stripping off her outer layer. Her one and only bikini had been bought for a holiday in southern Spain she had taken when she was at university. It had not been bought to go anywhere near water. Made of a silky satin, the bra cups combined with a halter-neck that crossed over in front and gave her breasts a little added lift, not that they needed it really, but every little helps. The briefs were… very brief. They were probably a little too brief for a London park, but it was what she had. She lay down in the sun, kept her legs together, and relaxed.

It was warm, pleasant, and Faline would run across every now and then to give Nisa a quick headbutt before charging off after a bird or something. Maybe the cat was a cat after all, even if she was a superior cat.

It was just after one of Faline’s return trips that a shadow fell across Nisa and a voice said, ‘You know, I’m really bad with competition.’

Nisa did not need to open her eyes to know who it was. ‘If you touch my cat, Trina, I’ll feed you your liver.’

The leader of the Queens gave a snort: it was pretty unlikely that Nisa could take her in a fight. The woman was tall, slim, attractive in a slightly masculine way with a strong jawline, sharp, blue eyes, and short-cropped blonde hair. Her body was all lithe, tight muscle and she knew how to use it. If rumours were true, she knew how to use it in a number of interesting ways other than beating the snot out of anyone who got in her way.

‘What about the tall streak of nothing who picked you up yesterday?’ Trina asked.

‘Kellog? If you think you can take him, be my guest. He’s my new boss. He’s also a cop.’

‘You’re working for the Pigs?’

‘Backroom stuff, analytics. I’m not going to be walking a beat any time soon.’

Trina laughed. ‘Shame, shagging a girl in uniform… Never done that.’

‘Still not happening, Trina,’ Nisa pointed out. ‘And you’re blocking my sun.’

The shadow moved and the voice came from lower down this time; Trina had settled onto the grass. ‘You’re such a damn tease. Lying there in next to nothing…’

‘There are other girls here in just as little. Go pester one of them.’

‘None as good as you, girl,’ Trina said, a hint of longing in her voice. ‘Guess I’ll have to make do with looking.’

‘Yup. None of your cronies around?’

‘I’m meeting Sal and Tats later. Being the Queen of the Queens is a pain at times, y’know? Having to be Trina all the time? Sometimes it’s nice to be Katrina by herself.’ There was a sigh and the voice dropped in height again. ‘I heard about the kebab place. Did a little digging, but no one seems to know who did it.’

‘You checked up on that for me?’

‘I was worried about you, yeah, but if some gang’s bringing guns to my turf I want to know.’

‘Cops think the guy who was in the shop was targeted specifically. More an assassination than a random attack. I’d never seen him before so it’s probably a gang from out of the borough.’

‘Good to know.’ There was a meow and Nisa’s cheek was headbutted, and Trina added, ‘Hello, Cat, you lucky bitch. I bet you get to sleep in her bed.’

‘Her name’s Faline,’ Nisa replied, ‘and she sleeps on the bed, yes.’

‘If I get myself some cat ears and a tail, can I sleep on your bed?’

Faline gave an affronted meow and Nisa giggled. ‘Sorry, that’s been vetoed.’

‘Damn,’ Trina said without rancour, ‘cock blocked by a cat. What is the world coming to?’

~~~

‘That girl in the park,’ Faline said while Nisa was pouring out some food for her, ‘you like her?’

‘Trina? It’s… complicated.’

‘It smelled like you like her. She likes you more.’

‘Faline!’ Nisa whined. ‘I do not want to discuss my sex life with a cat.’

‘We could discuss mine, but it would be very boring.’

‘Well, mine too. Let’s just say that if that incubus had just asked, he wouldn’t have needed that mind control crap. Trina’s the leader of a local gang. All girls, all tough. While Trina wants in my pants, the Queens leave me alone. If she gets me and we break up, I’d probably have to move.’

Faline chewed thoughtfully on a biscuit. ‘So it isn’t that she’s a girl?’

‘Where my erogenous zones are concerned, I don’t differentiate over who’s stimulating them. And I still can’t believe I’m talking about this with a cat.’

‘I’m just showing an interest,’ Faline replied, dipping her nose back into the food.

‘Huh. Is there a Mister Faline?’

‘Cats are not noted for their felicity, Nisa. It’s very much a case of sex-and-run. The best a domestic can hope for is to be one of a harem.’

Nisa giggled. ‘I could see you in a little veil and harem pants.’

‘I hope the image is as attractive as it is amusing.’

‘Hey, you are a very attractive cat. You’ve got a good figure, uh, for a cat obviously. I don’t know how you keep yourself in shape when you hardly ever leave the flat.’

‘Good breeding,’ Faline replied. You could just about hear the smile.

Westminster, July 8th.

‘Any luck finding the Skinwalker I found?’ Nisa asked. They had been going over what the creatures were like in some detail, given that there was one in the city, possibly in the area Nisa lived in.

‘Nothing else has come up,’ Kellog replied. ‘It could have left London entirely. They have a compulsion to murder, but they prefer to pick their targets so they can go for months without showing themselves. And if it’s stolen that girl’s face then it might be better for it to hide somewhere she was not known.’

‘And we still don’t know who she was?’

He shook his head. ‘DNA came back with nothing. If she used a dentist we haven’t found one yet. They’re doing a facial reconstruction to see if they can find her that way, but it’ll take some time.’

‘And in the meantime it could be finding someone else to steal.’

‘There’s not much we can do about it, Nisa. We have to be realistic. Unfortunately, some of them get away. Quite a lot, actually, given that we probably only discover twenty per cent of their crimes.’

‘What’s the resolution rate?’

‘Thirty-eight per cent of discovered crimes.’

Nisa’s eyebrows went up. ‘That’s, like, almost double the average for resolution in the force.’

‘We generally have a smaller list of suspects and some tools the normal constabulary can only dream of. Hopefully, with you on board, we can push that up higher. But that requires you to finish the basic training.’

‘Okay,’ Nisa agreed, holding up her hands. ‘What’s next?’

‘Selkies,’ Kellog said, clicking up a picture of a naked woman lying on a rock.

‘Really, Kellog? Porn in the workplace?’

‘Note the seal skin lying beside her. We don’t see them much around here and they generally do no harm, but it’s wise to know them when you see them…’

Nisa suppressed a sigh and settled down to listen. The man did not seem to have any form of sense of humour and she wondered briefly whether something had made him that way or he was just naturally a killjoy.

Tower Hamlets, July 10th.

‘Seriously?!’ Nisa exclaimed, and Faline glanced up at the book she was reading, gave a short meow and went back to lying on her paws.

‘I found this chapter entitled “love spells” in the witchcraft book, and what it really is is… sex aids.’

‘You were expecting something to make someone fall in love with you? Aside from you not needing such a charm, Nisa, it’s considered unethical under most circumstances.’

‘Oh, well, I guess… But listen to this: “Gentleman’s Helper” which “promotes vigour and goodly stamina.” It’s magic Viagra!’

‘Indeed, and a very popular charm it is. Some of those “herbal remedies” you see advertised actually work. Check out the “Witch’s Best Friend” spell.’

Dreading what she might find, Nisa flipped through the pages until she found the one she was looking for. ‘Grants unto the witch the sensation of being filled in every…’ Her voice trailed off until she got to, ‘It is not recommended to use this for longer than an hour for fear of heart failure! And people cast it?’

‘It was one of Jennifer’s favourites. Could we change the subject?’

‘Sure… That ethical thing. Could you use a love spell if… I don’t know, what about to save a marriage?’

‘It’s frowned upon. If there are children, then perhaps, but the other problem is that it rarely works. You can make someone love another person, or themselves, but emotions are complex things. If you twist one, who knows how the others will react. Make a man fall back in love with his wife and he may end up resenting his children, or harming his mistress, or just being miserable for the remainder of his life. Is that fair on anyone?’

‘No. No, I suppose… You can do pretty much anything with magic, but that doesn’t mean you should. That’s the basic idea?’

‘More or less, but there are some things that cannot be done. It is impossible to truly create or destroy something, for example. You always make something from something, or reduce something to its components. You can’t… make Easter not exist.’

‘Time travel isn’t possible.’

‘Exactly. But even what you can do needs to be considered before doing it.’ The cat gave a sound which could have been a laugh. ‘Though when have people ever considered the outcome of their actions thoroughly before acting? A spell or a gun, either way someone is dead and the person who did it almost certainly did not think it through.’

Tower Hamlets, July 12th.

It was all rather subjective, but Nisa had found some indications that crime increased around the full moon. That was based on a study by police in Sussex and she had not seen the full report, but they seemed to think it had an effect. A lot of other studies had tended to find that human behaviour was not affected by lunar cycles, though one sleep study had suggested that your sleep patterns were worse at the full moon. After the dreamcatcher expired, falling apart one day without warning, Nisa had decided to keep a journal of her nightmares to see if they followed a pattern.

All this was very interesting, but it made walking home from Black Light under a bright, white disc a little unnerving. Especially when it was violent crime that was supposed to be most affected. She closed the door on her flat with some relief, kicked off her boots, and padded through the small hallway into the lounge expecting to see Faline on the sofa. Faline was not there.

‘I’m home, Faline,’ she called out and started for the bedroom, pulling off her top as she went. There was no answering meow. Shrugging, she pushed open the bedroom door, turned on the light, and came to a grinding halt.

Crouched on the bed, looking nervous, even scared, was a naked woman. She was maybe five-foot-five, slim to the point of skinny, firmly muscled the way athletes are, long, tight muscles meant for sudden action, and her breasts were high, not large, and somewhat pointed. Her face was strange, oddly angular with a flattened nose, wide mouth, and a solid jawline. Her hair was black and fell around her neck though she had pushed it behind her ear on the right side. But the eyes… The eyes were a bright green, and the pupils were slits.

‘F-Faline?’ Nisa asked.

‘Yes, Nisa.’ She had a slight Cockney twang in her voice which was not there when they used the telepathy spell.

‘Y-you… You’re… You…’

‘I’m a Witch Cat, Nisa. At night, if I wish, I can become human.’

‘Then why haven’t you before? Wait, you’ve been dusting when I’m asleep.’

‘Uh… yes, and I don’t change often. I need to trust my companion. It was two years before I changed for Jennifer and the one before that never saw me like this.’

‘Then… why now? I’ve known you for a few weeks…’

‘It’s… embarrassing.’

Blinking, Nisa walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, twisting so that she could look at her… Could she go on thinking of Faline as a cat?

‘Every three months,’ Faline said, ‘at the full moon… I mean, the males are terrible. They want it all the time. If I were a tom you’d be sleep-deprived. It just happens when…’

‘You’re in heat!’ Nisa exclaimed.

Faline winced. ‘It’s a horrible term for it, but entirely too descriptive. I feel like I’m on fire. When she was younger, Jennifer used to help and then she would use that spell I showed you on me when she got old. As you say, we’ve just met really, but maybe you could work the spell and–’ She stopped as Nisa got to her feet and unbuttoned her shorts. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I did mention I hadn’t had any in ages, right?’ Nisa replied. ‘You’re hot and you’re probably really flexible, and I’m not missing the opportunity.’ Tossing her shorts into a corner, she sat down to strip off her stockings.

‘Oh,’ Faline said.

‘Not having second thoughts?’ Nisa asked her.

‘Not really having… thoughts.’

‘Good.’ Turning, Nisa pushed herself forward, driving Faline back until she was lying on her back, and then crawled on top. Their lips met, a light touch at first, and then Nisa’s tongue pressed the height advantage. Faline’s mouth was new territory: an alien place of odd dentition. There were the sharp canines and incisors, no molars. Faline’s tongue pressed back; smoother than her cat tongue, it was still hot and a little rough, and the thought of the cat-woman using it to probe more intimate places sent a shiver down Nisa’s spine.

Faline pushed up a little and Nisa broke the kiss. ‘I’m not human, but I need to breathe,’ Faline reminded her.

Nisa shifted her head to the side and kissed just below Faline’s left ear. ‘Breathing is for wimps,’ she whispered between kisses down her companion’s throat. She reached a hand down, finding Faline’s thigh and sliding over the smooth, dark skin.

The cat-woman’s breathing was becoming more ragged. ‘It’s been… almost a decade… longer…’

Nisa found the warm, wet space between Faline’s legs, pressed her fingers down, and began to circle digits over slick skin. ‘I can tell.’ Her mouth found a nipple, a very hard, erect nipple, and she began to suck on it. Faline let out a gasp which trailed into mewling noises that were more cat-like than human.

There was every chance, Nisa realised, that if she let her feline partner use that rough little tongue on her, there would be no controlling what happened, and it was Faline who was hurting, if that was the right word. Mutual satisfaction could wait. There was a groan of loss as Nisa pulled her lips and hand away from Faline’s body and then a squeal of delight as Nisa’s tongue slid over Faline’s labia. Fingers invaded, two were pushed deep, and Faline’s hips bucked in response. Faline’s hands gripped Nisa’s head, fingers pushing into her hair, pressing her down. Nisa had no intention of going anywhere anyway. Her tongue found the little button it was looking for and began to lap hungrily.

It took less than a minute: the Witch Cat really was very wound up. Suddenly she was making a sound like someone screaming through gritted teeth, her fingers tensed into claws around Nisa’s skull, and her body strained, her back arching off the bed as the orgasm roared through her.

Nisa crawled up the bed to lie beside her, licking her fingers and grinning. ‘Feeling better?’ she asked.

‘The… immediate… need… is gone,’ Faline gasped. She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and added, ‘When I’m like this, the respite will be short-lived.’

‘Good. I want some, y’know? Uh, speaking of short-lived, how old are you? If it’s been ten years… I mean, a domestic cat is lucky to live that long.’

‘I was born in October of seventeen-fifty-six,’ Faline told her, ‘in a corner of Covent Garden. The old one, not the new one. Witch Cats don’t age so long as we have a magician to live with. We feed on the karmic taint, what wizards call Probrum, which you gain when doing magic.’

‘So I lose it faster with you around? That’s a plus.’ She giggled. ‘I can’t help but think we avoided considering the consequences here before acting.’

Faline pushed herself up onto one elbow and then slid down the bed. ‘Did I not mention that I was not really thinking at the moment?’ she said.

Any answer she might have got turned into a moan. Her tongue was as stimulating as Nisa had thought it might be.

Westminster, July 14th.

‘You’re looking tired,’ Kellog commented as Nisa walked into the break room to get coffee. Norbery was sitting beside him, wearing one of his customary grins.

Nisa headed straight for the machine. ‘Yeah, well… Turns out that Faline is more than just your average, superior cat…’

‘It was full moon on Saturday night,’ Norbery said, ‘of course.’

Coffee in hand, Nisa turned and glowered at him. ‘You knew?’

‘That she’s a Witch Cat? More of a surmise, but it seemed like too much of a coincidence that she should turn up like that. That the females get… enthusiastic every few months? Yes, that I knew. Not from personal experience; I’m a married man.’

‘I was curious to know how you’d react,’ Kellog said. ‘Apparently you’re taking it in your stride.’

Nisa grunted sourly and drank coffee.

‘It’s only for three or four nights once a quarter,’ Norbery told her. ‘If it had been a male we might have had to do something. Female magicians with male Witch Cats tend to be very sleep-deprived, especially if they’re as attractive as you.’

‘Thank you,’ Nisa grumped. ‘A little warning would have been nice, that’s all I’m saying. I could have been better prepared.’

‘Prepared?’

‘Yeah…’ Nisa’s lips twitched a little as she tried to maintain a straight face. ‘I need to buy a strap-on before October.’

Even Kellog’s cheeks reddened a little. Nisa chalked up a point for her side.

Tower Hamlets, July 16th.

There was still light in the sky, but the sun had set, and that seemed to be enough for whatever magic allowed Faline to change shape. She padded out of the bedroom, naked, but not looking as hungry as she had since Saturday.

‘I thought,’ the Witch Cat said, ‘that it would be easier to talk like this.’

‘Just talk?’ Nisa replied, closing her book.

‘I’m back to being normal, less lustful, Faline, and we should consider those consequences.’ Faline sat down on the sofa, curling up and resting her arms on the back cushions and her chin on her arms. It looked like an uncomfortable position, but she was very flexible.

Nisa stretched. ‘Does there have to be any? We fucked. In three months we’ll do it again, and maybe a few times before then. These days we call it “friends with benefits.”’

‘If you think we can get along like that, then that’s good for me. I’m not usually so, um, insistent.’

‘I think it’ll work.’ Nisa opened her book again, paused, and said, ‘The males, they’re really that bad all the time?’

‘No. We’re worse when we’re in season. Though… You are a very attractive young woman. I think you’re lucky I claimed you.’

‘Yeah,’ Nisa replied, not sure about the ‘claimed’ part, ‘I think I am.’

Part Three: The City Of Shadows

The City, London, August 4th, 2014.

Nisa looked through the railings at an old, tall, rather grand building nestled into a corner off Temple Place. King’s College London was just around the corner. Up the street was the Australian High Commission building. The river was close enough that she could smell it. But they were there so that she could see that particular building.

‘The High Temple of the Hermetic Order of the Eternal Flame,’ Kellog said, keeping his voice to a level where anyone passing by would have lost it in the traffic noise. ‘That place is the main college of wizardry in the country.’

‘I’m going to assume that a tour isn’t on the cards,’ Nisa said. The building looked to be of Gothic design; there were arched windows and a lot of stone, but the upper storeys were brick. There was a tower at the back, away from the road.

‘It’s hard enough to get in there when we have an official reason for doing so,’ Kellog replied sourly. It was the most emotion she had ever heard in his voice. ‘They’re secretive, very secretive, and the new High Grand Master has made things worse rather than better.’

‘About ninety? Long, white beard? Dresses in robes? Maybe an Irish accent?’

‘Actually he’s not thirty yet. He was only twenty-one when he took over from the last one. English. Wears expensive suits and he has his hair cut at places we’d be thrown out of. His family has a lot of old money.’

‘You don’t like him, or them, much, do you?’

‘I don’t like them much, no, but that’s not why we’re here. Come on.’ He walked off up a narrow alley between the wall and railing which bordered the Temple grounds and another Gothic building, an art gallery. Nisa hurried after him; the man had long legs.

He stopped after maybe fifteen yards; up ahead of them was Milford Lane and the cut-through seemed to have been left in to join the two roads. People likely walked through it all the time, but it looked to Nisa as if someone had come to a sudden halt.

There was no body, but there was… the shadow of one. It looked like someone had airbrushed a shadow onto the white stone of the wall, or part of one, the lower half. It looked weird, but it could have been someone’s idea of a joke. A fairly sick joke.

‘Hiroshima,’ Nisa said quietly.

‘Sorry?’

‘The bomb vaporised people close to the detonation site, but if they were close to a wall it left a carbon shadow. This looks like one of those. Could be a Glitch. Could be a vandal.’

‘Anti-nuclear protest? A little vague, don’t you think?’

‘Yeah, but something capable of doing that to a human should have lit up half the city.’

‘Glitches,’ he reminded her, ‘don’t obey the rules. We’ll get Norbery to test the “residue” and see what he can find before it’s scrubbed off.’

Nisa nodded, her eyes on the shadow. There was something slightly odd about it and it took her a second to work it out. ‘It doesn’t touch the floor,’ she said and got a raised eyebrow. ‘It’s kind of like he was pushed through the railing, hard, and his feet lifted off the ground.’

‘Doesn’t that suggest some sort of blast?’

‘Yeah… maybe.’ She shuddered. ‘If it’s real, I don’t think it was a nice death.’

‘Death,’ Kellog replied, ‘is rarely nice, no matter how it happens.’

Westminster.

‘It’s not a carbonisation effect,’ Norbery said. ‘I currently have no idea what it is, but it’s not natural. We managed to scrape almost all of it off and there’s a measurable element of Probrum. We’ve put it down in the vault.’

Nisa frowned. ‘I thought Probrum was something magicians got?’

‘It is, but certain effects, often from Glitches, can produce the same sort of taint.’

‘Excessively large magical effects can leave traces of it in the area they’re performed,’ Kellog added. ‘Certain unethical methods of obtaining power can taint an area for years.’

‘So we’re back to a Glitch,’ Nisa suggested.

They were sitting in Hanson’s office and she had listened silently to the reports so far. Now she spoke. ‘It seems likely, but we should follow it up. I want Nisa taking the lead on this one.’ She held up a hand as both Kellog and Nisa opened their mouths. ‘You have three open cases as it is and this one looks like it’ll be fairly open and shut. I realise it’s throwing you in at the deep end, Nisa, but you have to learn, and we have to see whether all that training has sunk in. You’ll assist Kellog on his cases, and you’ll see what you can dig up on this shadow.’

Kellog looked like he might protest but nodded. ‘I doubt it’s going to get closed properly, but it’s something to flex your investigative muscles on.’

Nisa was less keen. ‘I… guess if it’s just some transient Glitch then I can’t mess it up too badly.’

‘Precisely,’ Hanson stated. ‘No offence.’

‘None taken,’ Nisa replied a little morosely. ‘I figure I’ll screw up somehow, but it just can’t be horribly bad.’

Tower Hamlets.

‘You sell yourself too short, Nisa,’ Faline said as she padded into the lounge.

Nisa looked up at her, sighed, and said, ‘Where are your clothes?’

The human-shaped Witch Cat sagged. ‘Do I have to wear them?’

‘Yes, until ten, like we agreed. You’re a distraction.’

Faline turned around and went back into the bedroom. It had been a good three weeks since Faline had revealed her human form to Nisa, and she now changed as soon as the sun set, but the one thing she would not do was allow Nisa to see her transform. She always hid herself away and then came back a different shape. And she was back to being a cat before Nisa awoke in the morning.

It took Faline next to no time to return wearing the shortest denim shorts Nisa had been able to find and a lacy camisole top which barely hid her small breasts.

‘And this, seriously, is not a distraction?’ Faline asked.

‘It’s less of a distraction.’ Nisa went back to her book as Faline curled into her place on the sofa. The truth was that Nisa just wanted the cat-girl to get used to wearing something and this was a start. Faline was drastically shy of humans, but Nisa had hopes of introducing her to some of her friends at some point in the future. Probably a long way in the future, but still…

‘As I was saying,’ Faline said, ‘you’re an intelligent woman with a remarkable ability to retain information. You will make an excellent detective.’

‘I guess. I’d have liked to have observed Kellog at work first, that’s all. I’m going to make mistakes…’

‘Of course you are. We learn best from our mistakes. We learn best by doing. You will have the opportunity to assist in the wizard’s cases and see what he does. You will learn and do, and make mistakes, and so learn more.’ Nisa gave a grunt, not looking up from her book. ‘Where will you start?’ Faline asked.

‘Uh… Go back to the site, see if there’s anything I missed. Check the photos of the scene and Norbery’s report. Take a look at this residue he found.’

‘You already have a plan, excellent. What are you reading?’

‘A Natural History of the Unnatural,’ Nisa replied.

‘Ah, DeWinter. No one has surpassed his studies of the phenomena.’

‘Which is a shame, because this reads like it was written by someone in his nineties who didn’t like people anymore.’

‘He was almost a hundred and a recluse when he finally wrote it all down. That was in eighteen-ninety-three.’

‘Explains a lot.’

‘Were you looking for anything in particular?’

Nisa gave a small grimace. ‘Not sure… Something that could blast a man into a shadow on the wall but not be seen?’

‘It would need to be a Glitch, and a powerful one, so you are unlikely to ever find an explanation.’

‘Why not?’

‘The more powerful a Glitch is, the less time it can exist before reality tends to assert itself. A Daath beast might have that kind of power. Bugs, as you so prettily describe us, must exist within the framework of the universe. The kind of power you are talking about is so unnatural that it lies beyond the realms of our power.’

Nisa looked at her. ‘How am I supposed to think of you as a cat when you come out with statements like that?’

‘I can just sit here saying “meow” every so often if you prefer, but I’m not wearing these horrible rags to do it.’

‘The clothes stay. And I want you to speak English.’ She turned a page. ‘And I do value your insights.’ Another page. ‘Faline?’

‘Yes, Nisa?’

‘You’ve heard this idea that we’re all programs, bits of software in a computer simulation?’

‘I have heard the theory spoken of. It became popular in the sixties, I believe.’

‘Do you believe it?’

‘Not really. Not any more than any of the multitude of ideas created to explain our existence.’

‘Kellog says they have evidence. Things, beings, sent by The System who sometimes talk about what’s going on–’

‘And in ages past such things would be angels or devils, and they would tell people that God was watching them, or whatever deity people believed in at the time anyway. In this modern age of science, something comes and explains the universe away as a computer program. Is that any different from “God made the world in seven days?” Your detective says these things are agents of The System, but he describes other things as Daath Beings. How does he know the difference?’

‘Huh. Not sure he’s actually ever met one. Hey, if you don’t like being called a Bug, what do you prefer?’

‘Witch Cat,’ Faline replied with a shrug. ‘It’s what I am. Classifying the supernatural the way your people do is just that, classification. Humans, I’ve found, like order. They like to codify and categorise. Why does my nature make me anything like a vampire or even a Skinwalker? Only because someone decided to place us in the same class.’

Nisa nodded and fell silent, continuing to flick through the book but not really seeing it. Faline was right, of course. People liked things to be explicable. They liked order. They would find order in disorder, even in the absolutely random. It was one of the reasons statistics was disliked; statistical analysis tended to show that apparently real strings of events were unrelated and people hated that.

So, maybe The System was just another attempt to explain the inexplicable. Nisa liked it as a concept because it gave a reason for… Well, it explained things like Faline. She was not supernatural; she was a program which might not have been designed to work as she did, but at least the reason she could change shape was not ‘magic.’ Magic was not magic: it was just bending the rules of a computer simulation. It was more Neo than Morpheus, but it was part of how the world worked, a function of simulated physical laws instead of something outside them.

But who said everything had to work the way science said it should?

August 5th.

She could hear voices. Snatches of conversation seeped into her consciousness, but they made little sense.

‘We’re losing her.’

‘We can’t…’

‘…take steps…’

‘…option. We have to…’

She managed to prise her eyes open. There were more than four of them. Tall, shadowy figures with no visible faces, but they all seemed have eyes which shone brightly down at her.

‘She is aware…’

‘She can’t…’

A hand reached out toward her face…

~~~

Nisa woke up with a start, letting out a strangled, dry-throated scream which brought Faline upright in an instant.

‘Nisa?! What…?’ Faline reached out a hand and Nisa slapped it away, the dream still fresh in her mind.

‘Oh! God… Sorry, Faline. Nightmare. Something was reaching for me and…’

The cat-like woman reached out more tentatively and this time Nisa allowed it. Faline pushed herself up the bed, rested her back on the headboard, and pulled Nisa up against her.

‘It’s all right now. You’re safe. Just relax.’

Nisa settled herself against warm skin and tried to do just that. ‘It’s easier when you purr,’ she said, her voice hushed.

‘That only works when I’m a cat. If you’re having trouble in a little while, I’ll change. It’s not that far from dawn anyway.’

‘Why won’t you ever let me see you change?’

‘It’s not… me at my best,’ Faline replied. ‘The process is not very pleasant to watch.’

‘Does it hurt?’

‘No. From my point of view it’s just a little confusing. I have to lie down or I tend to fall over.’

‘I’d like to see it sometime. Not tonight, but sometime. If you’ll let me.’

‘Perhaps. As long as you promise not to look at me funny afterward.’

‘I can probably manage that. You’re a little bony for a pillow.’

‘My apologies.’

Nisa managed a grin, not that her friend could see it. ‘Sexy, but a little bony.’

‘You seem recovered enough to use the real pillow.’

There was a giggle and Nisa moved, settling herself down on the bed and then pulling Faline against her, spooning tightly against her back.

After a few seconds Faline said, ‘Th-that is not going to get you to sleep.’

‘Yes it will,’ Nisa replied. ‘Eventually.’

The City.

The place where the shadow had been now had a section of wall which seemed to have been cleaned with a sandblaster. The slight feeling of menace which Nisa had not really noticed the day before was conspicuous by its absence today. Whatever it was that Norbery had scraped off the wall had been giving something off, she decided. Something… not right.

But whatever that was, it was gone and staring at a blank wall was just going to result in passers-by looking at her like she had lost it. Nisa turned and started up the lane toward the Strand. The Rabbit Hole was not even a mile away and she could walk it easier than taking the Tube.

Apparently, staring at the wall had already garnered her one person who might be questioning her sanity. There was a blonde walking toward her and, fairly obviously, looking at her. She was an attractive woman, maybe five-eight, but she was wearing black, high-heeled pumps which she knew how to walk in. There was a real strut in her step which tended to show off her slim, well-developed legs. She was in designer clothes: a short skirt split up the left thigh and a long-sleeved, flared jacket which was closed with a cord around two ornate buttons at her waist. That left her navel visible along with a set of firm abs, and a lot of cleavage. Nisa would have put money on implants, just from the way they shifted under the twill. She had a slightly narrowed, very attractive face with a small, pointed nose, hollowed cheeks and beautiful, blue-green eyes.

As they got within a couple of yards, the woman dipped her eyes a little, smiled, and ran her tongue quickly over her lips. Nisa smiled back and, for a brief second, thought very seriously about calling in sick. But she had work and, for all she knew, Hanson had some way of monitoring her health. No, the obvious come-on would have to be ignored in favour of another day at the office, which just sucked. Nisa risked a glance back; the soft, pale-blonde hair was pulled into a short ponytail high on her head, but the tail of the woman’s jacket obscured a good view of what had to be a really good behind…

‘Get a grip, girl,’ Nisa muttered and kept on walking toward the Strand.

Westminster.

Kellog dropped three files onto Nisa’s desk. She actually had a desk now, in an office across the hall from Kellog’s. She got the feeling that XC was supposed to have more staff than it did.

‘These are the cases I’m working on,’ Kellog said and then frowned at her. ‘Rough night?’

‘Nightmare. Took me a while to get back to sleep. Faline helped.’

‘The purring is very soporific.’

‘The purring. Yes. So you want me to go over the files and acquaint myself with them?’

‘That sounded… efficient.’

Nisa grinned. ‘Well, I’ve been reading PACE and everything.’

‘Good. You’ll understand the file format.’

‘Isn’t this stuff all kept on computer?’

‘We don’t, generally, keep the main files on computer. They stay in the file room when not in use. It’s rigged with incendiary explosives.’

‘Oh… That sounds efficient too.’

‘A precaution. Read the files. Make sure you get through the top one by lunchtime. We’re going out to check a few places on that one tomorrow.’

‘Tomorrow? Then why do I need to finish it before lunch?’

‘Because this afternoon we have proper use of firearms.’

‘Firearms?!’

‘You don’t think we’re going to give you a gun until you’ve learned to use one, do you?’

~~~

‘This,’ Kellog said, his tone more serious than usual, ‘is a Glock 26 Gen 4 automatic pistol chambered for a 9 by 19 parabellum round. Typically you’ll be practising with a one hundred and fifteen grain fully jacketed round, but you’ll be using hollow points in the field. Those are one-sixteen grain with a twelve hundred and forty feet per second muzzle velocity. This design features a “Safe Action” system which basically means it won’t go off unless you fully pull the trigger. You should find it’ll put a large hole in something at any range you can hit it at, but beware of body armour; the hollow points have low penetration.’

Nisa looked at the little gun he was holding up. It looked like a toy, maybe six inches in length with a very short grip. Kind of square and solid-looking, and the polymer grip gave an even more toy-like impression.

‘It’s… small. I mean, there isn’t even room for my little finger on there.’

‘It’s a subcompact, designed for concealed carry. I suggest you start carrying a bag. It won’t go off in one, even if you drop it on the floor.’ He peered at her. ‘Don’t drop it on the floor to test that.’

‘Look, I’m English, not American. I didn’t grow up with a .44 Magnum under my pillow and go out shooting moose at the weekend. These things scare the shit out of me.’

‘That,’ Kellog stated, ‘is a good starting point. However, there is no case in the world where a gun deliberately set out to kill someone. There’s always a human, or a sentient being anyway, pulling the trigger.’

‘What about blowing up in my face?’

‘Glocks are exceptionally reliable. I’ll teach you how to treat this, you’ll treat it well because you’re scared of it, and it’ll return the favour. Now, it’s not loaded; we’re just practising the stances, getting the feel of the weapon, and then we’ll try hitting some targets.’

He held out the pistol and Nisa took it as though it might break, or explode.

‘Step up to the line,’ Kellog instructed. ‘Feet roughly shoulder-width apart. You’re right handed? Then it’s left foot forward, pistol in the right hand. Cup your right hand with your left. Right arm almost straight and pushing forward, left arm pulling back. The right leg should be straight and the left one a little bent–’

‘Do you play golf?’ Nisa asked as she tried to obey the string of orders.

‘No.’

‘You should. This sounds like comedy golf instructions.’

Kellog gave a grunt and stepped in behind her. His arms wrapped around her as he shifted the position of her hands, pushed her shoulders forward a little, and shifted her arms. He felt warm against her back and there was a scent, warm, musky, strongly masculine.

‘How does that feel?’ he asked.

She had never even contemplated Kellog as anything other than a taciturn colleague. But his muscular body did feel pretty good resting against her…

‘I could get used to this,’ Nisa said.

He stepped back. ‘Good. Now we’ll try it with bullets.’

Tower Hamlets.

‘Seriously, I think he’s been neutered or something.’

Faline gave Nisa a look of pain. ‘Please. One does not use the N-word around a cat.’

‘Oh, sorry. But it’s like his libido is on zero. I mean… He had to feel something, right?’

‘Perhaps he simply prefers sexual partners of a different persuasion.’

‘No…’ Though he did seem to pay more attention to his skin than many men. And there was the firm physique. And he obviously wore some sort of cologne… ‘No… I don’t think he’s… Well, maybe.’

‘I wasn’t aware that you felt that way about your wizard,’ Faline said, an eyebrow rising.

‘Well… I don’t. I mean, there are probably rules about it anyway.’

‘I would imagine so, but it does bring up a point. If you did wish to bring a human home, I would be happy to sleep on the sofa.’

Nisa grinned. ‘Fat chance. Anyway, if I did, you could join us. Nice threesome with my flatmate…’

Faline sniffed. ‘I am not that kind of cat.’

Hammersmith, August 6th.

The houses on Hammersmith Grove were not especially large, unless you compared them to where Nisa was living, and then they were vast. They did have gardens, with a lot of trees, and that always gave her the impression of people who did not talk to their neighbours. Well, unless this counted as the suburbs, in which case it was probably all Friday night swinger parties and terribly upper-class spanking.

Mrs Wooler did not look like she indulged in either. She looked more like the kind of middle-aged woman who spent a lot of her time looking out of her windows to see what the neighbours were up to. Certainly she had seen something, but not her neighbours.

‘Prowlers,’ Mrs Wooler said. ‘Checking things out for burglaries, that’s what I think.’

Kellog nodded as though this was a perfectly reasonable explanation. ‘What exactly did you see, Mrs Wooler?’

‘Well… Men. I’m sure they were men, and more than one because I’ve seen two together. All dressed in dark clothes. Black suits, I think. They sneak around… Well, not sneak exactly. I see them standing beside fences or walls. Just standing and looking.’

‘Do you think you could describe any of them?’

Mrs Wooler frowned. Nisa frowned as well, but she was frowning at the cup of tea she was holding, which was red. Tea was not supposed to be red. The idea that you could drink the stuff was beyond her and she noticed that Kellog had not even picked his cup up.

‘I’ve never seen their faces,’ Mrs Wooler said. ‘Always in shadow.’

‘I see. Do they seem to be watching anywhere in particular?’

‘Now you mention it… The May house, across the road and two down. Young couple. He works. I’m not sure how they can afford a mortgage on one salary, but I’ve seen them off out on the town at the weekends, her in some designer outfit that wouldn’t cover a doll…’ Mrs Wooler’s eyes drifted to Nisa, who was in a fairly tight T-shirt and her best jeans, the ones without the holes in. ‘But it takes all sorts.’

Nisa gave a smile which she hoped looked genuine, even if it felt like her face was cracking, and took a sip of her tea. It felt as though all the water had just been sucked out of her tongue.

‘Thank you, Mrs Wooler,’ Kellog said, standing as he did so. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be keeping an eye out for your prowlers.’

They were outside and walking across the road before he said, ‘It’s never a good idea to drink anything they give you. Occasionally it has something dangerous in it, but it always seems to taste like tar.’

‘Now you tell me,’ Nisa replied sourly.

‘I thought it was obvious from the colour.’

‘Yes, well… She didn’t approve of my outfit.’

‘I don’t get the feeling that you are someone who cares about the approval of middle-aged women.’

‘I’m not, but… I’m supposed to be a cop.’

He glanced at her. ‘You could, perhaps, be a little smarter.’

For some reason that stung more than it should have, but they were at the door of the May house by then and she got no chance to reply as Kellog pressed the bell.

A few seconds later the door opened and Mrs May was there, smiling, but looking a little perplexed. She was in her twenties, Nisa guessed, slim, attractive, with a cap of red hair, green eyes, and a narrow, pretty face.

‘Hello,’ she said. ‘Can I help you?’

Kellog held up his warrant card. ‘Metropolitan Police, ma’am. I’m Detective Inspector Kellog, and this is Sergeant Harper. We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions. You’re not in any trouble. We’re just investigating some suspicious behaviour along the grove and you may have seen something.’

Mrs May’s gaze flicked across the road toward Mrs Wooler’s house. ‘You’d better come in,’ she said. ‘Can I get you some coffee? It’s fresh.’

‘That would be most kind,’ Kellog replied.

Nisa wondered whether he was doing it to see whether she would fall for it again.

‘Shadowy figures watching the house?’ Mrs May, who had turned out to be Lisa and insisted on them calling her that, said. ‘Mrs Wooler’s imagination is kind of… wild. She thought I was a prostitute until she realised I don’t go out much and I don’t have visitors. Then, apparently, she started telling people I was probably in the drug trade.’

‘What is it you do?’ Nisa asked. The coffee smelled really good and just the scent was making her feel more relaxed.

‘I’m a writer. Mostly freelance stuff for magazines, but I’ve done short stories and I’m trying to get a novel published.’

‘Anything I might have read?’

‘Oh, I doubt it. Most of my stuff goes in business mags or women’s ones and you look a bit young for the kind of thing they ask for. Do you read articles on HRT?’

‘Uh, no.’

Lisa smiled.

‘So, you’ve seen nothing unusual around your house recently?’ Kellog asked, apparently deciding that they should return to the subject at hand.

‘No. Nothing…’ She frowned. ‘Well, Ben said he saw… He said it was probably just a fox or something. The shadows in the back garden looked wrong. I couldn’t see anything. I did get a bit of a weird feeling though, like someone was watching. Had nightmares about it. Dark, shadowy figures looming over me in bed.’ She grinned. ‘Stupid really.’

Nisa took a gulp of her coffee. As was always the way, it did not taste as good as it smelled, but it was good coffee. It almost chased the feeling of dread away.

~~~

‘What was that?’ Kellog asked as they drove back toward the Rabbit Hole. ‘In the house when May mentioned the dream, you went white. Whiter than usual.’

‘That nightmare I had a couple of nights ago?’ Nisa replied. ‘Same dream. More or less anyway. My shadowy figures had glowing eyes. And I could hear them speaking.’

‘What did they say?’

Nisa frowned, but the words had faded faster than the imagery and that was dimly remembered now. ‘I don’t remember. I mean, that’s if it meant anything anyway. I just remember that I heard them.’

‘Odd, but shadowy figures are not exactly an unusual feature of nightmares. Aside from a shared dream, did you notice anything else odd about Mrs May?’

‘Um…’ Nisa searched her memory, trying to come up with whatever it was Kellog had noticed which she had not. Lisa May had seemed like a nice, friendly woman. The house had been tidy, but there had been enough clutter to suggest that it was lived in. There had been family photographs on the mantelpiece. ‘No,’ she said.

‘Neither did I,’ Kellog mused. ‘So why would they be watching her?’

‘They? The file mentioned several sightings of these shadowy men around London, but it didn’t say anything about what they might be.’

‘System agents tend to conform to an archetype appropriate for the age. Angels, wise old men… and these days it’s usually men in dark suits and shades.’

‘Men in Black.’

Kellog sighed. ‘Precisely. People don’t tend to question sinister government agents. We don’t know that these shadows are from The System, but it’s a working theory. If they are then something major is happening. They’ve been sighted in five different locations since the beginning of June. I haven’t been able to find anything strange at any of them. When we get back, run a background check on the Mays. Norbery can help you this time, show you the procedures.’

‘And then it’s ear protectors and bullets again?’

‘Practise for at least two hours a day. There is a test.’

‘Of course there is,’ Nisa muttered.

Westminster.

The Mays were about as ordinary as it got. Ben was a lawyer, primarily handling conveyancing. He had met Lisa at university where he had been studying law and she was taking English Literature. They had been married for three years, which meant they were about to get divorced or they were doing better than average. Lisa had not looked that stressed. Their bank account was not exactly overflowing, but it was in the black and they paid their credit cards off every month.

Lisa had, indeed, written an article on hormone replacement therapy, along with a number of others on various topics. She seemed to be a capable researcher as well as a writer. Nisa found a couple of short stories as well. There was a romance piece written for a monthly women’s magazine and a fantasy in a slightly more esoteric periodical. Both seemed well written, if not especially imaginative. There was no hint in any of her writing that she knew anything about real magic.

Norbery suggested checking the husband’s work. The esoteric language of demonic contracts was a lucrative sort of business for those who could get their heads around it. But there was plenty of evidence that Ben May was far too busy moving houses to have the time for moving souls.

‘Seriously?’ Nisa asked. ‘People sell their souls to demons?’

‘Very seriously,’ Norbery replied. ‘For money, power, revenge… any foolish thing they can dream up that the demon can arrange. And it’s easy to get carried away. If you owe your soul to a demon when you die, it can take everything. That person leaves the pool for some period of time and they usually come back… twisted.’

‘Bugs.’

‘It’s one way to create them. Some, like your cat, have existed since The System began. Others turn up new at times. We suspect Skinwalkers fall into that category.’

‘Norbery… You believe that The System is real, right?’

‘Having doubts?’

‘Well… questions.’

‘Good. Never take anything on face value. Yes, I believe it. But it’s not like people haven’t believed in things which were wrong before. They used to think the Earth was flat. People still believe in God, and that’s certainly a myth if The System is real.’

‘Someone had to make it.’

‘Yes, but I think a supercomputer or a very large team of programmers is more likely.’

‘Huh. Kellog seems pretty sure about The System. Hanson too.’

Norbery gave a slow nod. ‘They are, but they don’t know, not really. That’s what faith is, of course. Belief without proof. We have evidence, but proof is something else. Perhaps, just perhaps, we’re all wrong.’

Tower Hamlets.

Nisa stopped at the door of the tower and frowned. Something felt wrong. She was not entirely sure what it was, but she knew it was there, a weird, tense sensation somewhere in her head, like a headache waiting to happen.

She turned, looking around at the car park, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Thinking about it, she got the same feeling sometimes when she worked magic, or when she watched Kellog doing it. Was she sensing something magical now?

Her gaze shifted to the medical centre off to her right, and that was when she saw the man. He was tall, slim, and very pale, dressed in a black suit and tie, and a white shirt. He was wearing sunglasses, but then it was quite bright… But…

Turning again, she quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside. The tension left her body almost immediately, but she went for the lift at a fast walk and only felt comfortable when the door of her flat was closed behind her.

Faline looked up from the couch and gave a worried-sounding meow, but without casting the spell, the cat was going to be no use. Well, she could tell her anyway…

‘There was a man outside,’ Nisa said. ‘Dressed in a black suit. Just… standing there outside the medical centre. I think he was watching me. I can’t concentrate to work the spell…’

Sitting up, Faline patted the cushion in a most un-cat-like manner. The suggestion was obvious and Nisa sat down so that Faline could settle into her lap. The purring started and Nisa found herself relaxing whether her brain felt like it or not. The tense sensation was there again, which seemed to prove both that Nisa was sensing magic and that Faline’s purrs were magical, but now the feeling of mild euphoria overwhelmed it.

‘You believe that the man was a “System Agent,”’ Faline said ten minutes later when her purring had done its job and Nisa had cast the telepathy spell.

‘He fits the description, but I guess so would any guy in a black suit wearing sunglasses. It’s just… I seem to get this odd feeling sometimes when I’m around magic. Like a tension in my head. And I got that outside and there he was.’

‘Sensing magic is not entirely unheard of. It is not that common either. A useful talent which you should attempt to develop.’

‘Huh. You’ll pardon me if “an agent of The System was watching me” is taking higher priority at the moment.’

‘Of course, but he could have been a simple magician or another form of supernatural.’

‘That’s better?’

‘Well, obviously that depends. Did he do anything threatening?’

‘Aside from watching me, no.’

‘He watched you in a threatening manner?’

‘That sounds silly.’ The cat tilted her head to one side. ‘I…’ Nisa stopped. ‘I guess I didn’t feel threatened, exactly. It just felt… weird. And he was just standing there… watching.’

‘You are an attractive woman and I doubt there was anything else to look at.’

‘You’re just trying to make me feel better.’

‘Is it working?’

‘Yes,’ Nisa grumbled.

‘What is in the bags?’ Faline asked, humour carrying over the link to her mind.

Nisa looked at the two bags she had brought in and dropped almost immediately.

‘Oh… I stopped off for some clothes on the way home. I needed something… smart to wear.’

‘Well…? Come on, get changed. I want to see you smart.’

Westminster, August 7th.

Nisa walked through to Kellog’s office with a file in her hand. He was sitting behind his desk peering at his computer with a frown on his face, so she waited.

‘Yes?’ he said, apparently unwilling to take his eyes off the screen.

‘This case, the poltergeist? I think you missed something,’ Nisa said, which got his attention. He turned from the screen… and looked at her. After a second she said, ‘What?’

‘You’re looking… very smart,’ he said.

She had decided to wear the new outfit, just in case. It consisted of a pencil skirt, black with a pink pinstripe. Over that was a strapless bodice, black lace over a pink satin under-layer, turning to solid black over her hips, and ending in asymmetric, pink satin borders. There was a black, sleeveless bolero jacket, a pink leather cincher-style belt, and high-heeled sandals with an ankle strap. And suddenly she felt self-conscious.

‘Well… it’s dry-clean only so don’t expect it every day. I’ll get some more stuff when I get my next pay cheque. And don’t expect me to chase vampires in these heels.’

He almost cracked a smile. ‘Generally you should be running away from vampires. What have I missed?’

‘Well, you’ve got a house with broken pots and a couple of small fires. The family suspects the local youths are getting at their kids. You suspected one of the boys has telekinesis…’

‘It’s the usual reason for unfocussed events such as this.’

‘Yeah, I gathered that, but the tests came back negative. I was wondering why the family thought someone would be after the kids.’

‘They claimed that bullying was quite rampant at the local school.’

‘Uh-huh, they would. I did some checking. Those two have been kept behind for fighting on three different occasions. There’s a letter of complaint lodged by their parents for unfair treatment. “Our little angels are not bullies,” sort of thing.’

Kellog frowned. ‘You’re saying this may not be supernatural at all? The regular force is investigating the mundane angle…’

‘Yeah… Could be just regular kids, except for one thing. One of the boys at their school committed suicide last year. He didn’t leave a note, but his parents thought he might have been bullied. He never said anything, but they know he skipped school when he could and he was getting more and more withdrawn before he died.’

Kellog gave a grunt of displeasure and pushed himself up from his desk.

‘Not a good idea?’ Nisa asked.

‘No, it’s a good working theory which we can test, and I should have seen it. Hanson’s right. I’ve got too much on my plate.’

‘Well… fresh eyes on the problem, and I was a teenager more recently than you.’

He looked at her. ‘Are you suggesting I’m getting old, Sergeant?’

‘I don’t know. How old are you?’

‘He’s thirty,’ Sandra said from the corridor outside, ‘going on fifty.’

Nisa managed to stifle the giggle just in time: she was fairly sure Kellog would not have appreciated it.

‘Damn, girl,’ Sandra added as she started past, ‘you brush up well. You could have a girl batting for the other side. Don’t let Norbery see you like that. He’s married. He could have a seizure or something.’

‘I’ll go see Hanson,’ Kellog said, definitely trying to change the subject. ‘Assuming she authorises it, you go home this afternoon. Try to take a nap.’

‘Uh…’

‘We’ll stake the place out. If we are dealing with an unquiet spirit, it’s likely to show up after dark.’

Pinner.

‘So… how did you end up working for Hanson?’ Nisa asked.

They were sitting in Kellog’s car about a hundred yards from the house where the Wentworth family lived. It was a fairly large place, four bedrooms, a large garden, all of it well maintained. John Wentworth ran a small building business which did pretty well for itself. His wife, Donna, stayed at home and looked after her two sons, John Junior and Simon. Of the two, Simon got into more trouble, but Nisa suspected that was because his elder brother was smarter.

‘Long story,’ Kellog replied.

‘We’ve got all night.’

‘Hopefully not.’

‘Huh. It’s just… I’m supposed to be your partner and I know next to nothing about you.’

There was silence for a few seconds. Nisa waited, unsure whether he would answer but sure she should not press him. She was about to say something about not worrying about it when he spoke.

‘I said I didn’t like the Order. I don’t, but I used to be a member. Several of us got into some things… We did something stupid and someone had to pay the price. The others were protected, and I was the outsider. An American, twenty-one years old. I was hung out to dry, but Hanson saw that and offered me a deal. I work for Exceptional Circumstances, and they don’t press charges.’

‘You were twenty-one?’

‘Yes. I’d been in the country for three years, two of those with the Order. I scraped my degree.’

‘Then… your contract must be almost up.’

He looked across at her. ‘No.’

‘But…’

‘I said we did something stupid. You’ve done nothing aside from being an unknown, potentially powerful, magician. My contract is longer.’

‘What… what did you do?’

Any answer he might have given was stopped by a chime from a small box sitting in the open glove compartment. Nisa looked at it, and Kellog reached for the door.

‘Come on,’ he said. ‘Something triggered one of the sensors. Don’t forget the goggles.’

Nisa grabbed a pair of ugly-looking goggles from the glovebox and then pushed it shut. Her new eyewear looked like something the bomb-aiming officer on an old bomber might wear, except that the lenses had a green tint. They did not help you see in the dark; in fact, they made that more difficult, but they would, supposedly, let her see a ghost.

‘Do we know which one?’ she asked as they ran up the street, thankful she had changed into sneakers and jeans.

‘It’s not that sophisticated a system.’

‘Do we know what we’re going to do if we see him?’

‘If you see him… try talking to him. Keep him occupied until I get to you.’

‘Right…’ She pulled on her goggles and darted down the small alley at the side of the house. There was a six-foot, wooden fence on this side and nothing visible along the alley, but toward the rear of the property there was a crate and Nisa climbed onto that, giving her just enough height to peer over into the garden.

Not that she could see that much between the bushes and the trees, but there was a feeling. It was less than she had had when the man in the suit had been watching her, but she could feel it, something magical nearby. She pulled herself up, scrabbled over the fence, and dropped down onto the grass on the other side.

That was when she saw it. At first sight it looked more like a greenish gas cloud than a human, but the indistinct shape resolved itself after a second into the general form of a boy. From the size he was in his early teens, and that was about right. She could tell almost nothing else about him, and he was ignoring her, walking toward the house with a slow, gliding stride as though he was walking on air. Then, when she looked closely, she realised he was: his feet were not actually touching the ground.

‘Brian,’ Nisa hissed. The figure continued to ignore her so she tried a little louder. ‘Brian. I know you can hear me. Turn around.’

The cloudy form turned in the air but continued drifting toward the house as if drawn there. He said nothing, just looked at her. The face looked more or less like the one she had found pictured in a newspaper article. Young, tending to the nerdy. He even had glasses.

‘Look… why don’t you stop and we can talk. I… I know what happened to you, but this isn’t the right way to deal with it.’

The drifting stopped and suddenly reversed as the ghost seemed to solidify, rushing toward Nisa. She held her ground, even though she wanted to bolt because… Well, a solid Brian was not that threatening a figure. He had soft, blonde hair, not an unattractive face, but the glasses were thick-rimmed and ugly. He was still in school uniform: a grey jumper and black slacks. There was a livid, red ring around his throat; the newspaper had said he had hanged himself with the red and black tie which now hung loosely around his neck.

‘What do you kn-know?!’ Brian snapped. ‘P-pretty girl. P-probably one of the b-bitches who bullied people like m-me.’ A stammer. The kid even stammered as a ghost.

‘Sure,’ Nisa replied, lifting her goggles up so that he could see her eyes. ‘That’s why I shave my hair and dress like a punk half the time. Because I fitted in at school. Pat Newgent beat the crap out of me three years running. Until I did sixth form and she started working in a chip shop.’ Up close, the angry young man seemed less solid. His features still seemed to shift a little as he glared at her, as though he was not entirely solid, even now. ‘I still didn’t feel safe until I came here, to university.’

The glare faded a little. ‘I b-bet you wanted revenge…’

‘I just wanted her to leave me alone. I’m sure you wanted to be left alone too. So why hang around here?’

‘John… he… Simon would hit me, but I c-could take that. I’d avoid him. John sent me m-messages. On the phone, emails. He told me what he’d do to me. He said he’d…’ The ghost shuddered and, for a second, almost vanished again. ‘I said I’d t-tell someone. He took my phone and my mother’s ring. She died… It was all…’ The anger flared again and Brian grew more solid. ‘I want it back!’

Behind him, Kellog had appeared with a wand of some sort in his hand. Nisa was not sure exactly what it did, but she figured it was not going to do the ghost much good.

‘The ring won’t do you much good now, Brian,’ she said, keeping her voice soft. ‘But we can get it back. We could take it to your father or your grave. We can prove what John and Simon did. There are laws now. They’ll be punished.’

He looked at her, anger still flaring in his eyes. ‘It’s almost full moon,’ he said. ‘I’ll give you until the next one. Take the ring to my father. Otherwise they’ll find John hanging in his bedroom like they did me.’ He stepped toward Nisa, vanishing into nothing as he did so, like a cloud of steam blowing on the wind. She felt her scalp tighten and a shudder ran through her body, and then the feeling of magic faded.

‘He walked right through me, didn’t he?’ she said to Kellog.

‘Yes, he did. That was well done. Risky, but well done.’

‘Risky?’

‘In a month he’ll be stronger, harder to take down, but it’s not easy at any time and if we can persuade him to go on his own…’

‘So we’d better make a case against John Junior?’

‘Yes, you’d best do that. Your idea, your lead. I’ll talk to Hanson in the morning.’

Nisa sagged but nodded. ‘I guess.’

Kellog turned and led the way to the side gate he had used to get around the back, closing it behind him when Nisa was through, which meant that she was leading as they got back to the street, and she saw the tall, pale, black-suited figure standing across the road in the shade of a poplar. She glanced back to see where her partner was and by the time she looked for the man again, he was gone.

‘Something wrong?’ Kellog asked. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost?’

‘Oh, ha ha, very funny. Let’s get back before I turn into a pumpkin.’ She started off toward the car without waiting for his reply.

Exactly why she was not mentioning the men in the black suits to him she was not sure, but she was not. She knew she should, but… But what? Why was she staying silent?

Tower Hamlets.

‘You seem happy enough talking to me about them,’ Faline said. They were in bed, in the dark, and the nap Nisa had taken that afternoon was keeping her awake now.

‘Yes, but I don’t seem to be able to tell anyone at XC.’

‘There are spells which could, perhaps, achieve this. You said the man you saw felt magical.’

‘And I’ve only ever noticed that feeling when Kellog or Norbery actually cast spells, not at any other time.’

‘So he could have cast a spell on you to stop you speaking, but that does not explain being able to talk to me about it.’

‘Well… maybe it stops me speaking to humans. You’re not human so I can speak to you.’

‘Possible, though why an agent of The System would allow that…’

‘I know. Maybe you were right and that isn’t what they are.’

‘You have another theory?’

Nisa grimaced into the darkness. ‘It’s not a nice one, and it has some holes… The shadows that Kellog is chasing. They watch people or places.’

‘I’m not really sure that is a more palatable idea,’ Faline replied.

‘I’m pretty sure it isn’t.’

~~~

‘…aware of…’

‘…is she…’

‘She must…’

‘Silence!’

Poplar, August 8th.

It had been a long and frustrating sort of day. Nisa had filed a lot of paperwork to get the contents of Brian Pelham’s email account opened up. She was a little surprised no one had done so before now, but they had not and now it was done it was going to be a few days before she got any results.

There had been pistol practice. She had decided if there happened to be a barn beside her she was going to hit it maybe one time in ten. Kellog had said she was progressing well and she should keep practising.

And then there was her continued inability to mention the men in the black suits. She was convinced something was stopping her now; she had tried three times during the day to talk to Kellog about it, and every time something had happened to change the subject before she could mention it. No amount of concentration let her press on and say something. At least she had not seen any of them since the night before.

Black Light seemed welcoming after a day like that. The Hackers would be there, where they always were, doing something normal. Something normal seemed like a great idea, even if ‘normal’ meant talking about the supernatural. It was not actually supernatural, and that made all the difference. So Nisa walked up to the bar in her leather shorts and Lycra-and-mesh top, and grinned at Tamsin.

‘Whiskey,’ she said. ‘Double. Just a dash of water. I’m not used to the good stuff yet.’

Tamsin gave a smirk and turned to the optics. ‘New job pays better than the last one then?’

‘Much.’

The bartender turned again and reached for the hose which supplied the water. ‘I’m glad you’ve finally–’

The silence hit Nisa like a solid object. It was as though the entire world had just come to a stop leaving a stillness which permeated her mind with its wrongness. Tamsin was standing there, unmoving, an insect caught in invisible amber. The water had started to emerge from the nozzle in her hand and it too was just… paused. Glancing to her left, Nisa could see a woman frozen in a ludicrous posture, right in the middle of a dance step which probably looked great in motion, but she was off-balance on high heels and not falling. Slowly, Nisa turned around.

There were four of them. They were not identical, though they all wore the same black suits and shades. One was bald, one tanned, one a woman, and then there was the pale one Nisa had seen outside Leopold Tower. They stood there, unmoving, but they were not caught as the other people in the room were.

‘What…’ Nisa began, and the rest of the sentence caught in her throat. ‘What do you want?’ she croaked out.

The pale man stepped closer, reaching inside his jacket. Nisa tensed, but when he took his hand out again it was holding what looked like an old coin, large and blackened with age. He closed the distance further and pushed the coin into the left pocket of her shorts. Then he looked at her. His lips did not move, but she heard his voice, or it seemed like his voice, quite clearly.

‘The Shadows are here.’

‘What…?’

But he just stepped back again and his gaze lifted to something over her shoulder. Dreading what she was going to see, Nisa turned around…

‘–got your life on track,’ Tamsin said. There was the shush of water hitting the alcohol in the glass, almost lost in the noise of the crowd and the music. ‘I never thought a dead-end job and this place was where you should end up. Hey, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.’

Nisa managed a weak smile. ‘Yeah, fine. I’m getting that a lot lately. Maybe I should work on my tan.’

As Tamsin counted out change from a five pound note, Nisa checked her pocket. The coin was there, solid evidence that she had not had some sort of weird, waking dream. But what did it mean?

Part Four: Demon

Tower Hamlets, London, August 11th, 2014.

The coin, or whatever it was, lay on the carpet in front of the sofa. Nisa and Faline watched it as though it might suddenly burst into flame, or dance, or something else which metal discs should not do.

Nisa had shown her Witch Cat the ‘gift’ on coming home, and they had both decided that ignoring it was the best policy for now. It had been hidden away in one of the kitchen drawers, right at the back, and they had spent Saturday trying to forget it was there. Of course, that had failed. By the time darkness had fallen on Sunday they had decided that they should at least examine it, so there it was, being examined.

It did seem to be a coin, but what kind was a very definite unknown. From the weight and the blackened surface, Nisa thought it might be silver, very old silver. It was about two inches across, much bigger than any coin Nisa had seen before, and an eighth of an inch thick, and there seemed to be markings on the surface which suggested writing, or maybe runes, or glyphs, or something else that meant ‘I’m magic, keep away.’

‘He said nothing about it?’ Faline asked.

‘Nothing. Just a cryptic warning about shadows.’

‘Perhaps then,’ Faline mused, ‘it affords some form of protection.’

‘Could be I guess…’ Bending forward over her tucked-in legs, Nisa picked the coin up from the carpet. It did not really feel threatening. In fact, it felt a little warmer than she would have expected, kind of comforting. She ran a finger over the indistinct shapes on one side, coming to a stop as she felt that odd sense for magic tighten in her mind. Something, a three-dimensional pattern of white light, flickered into existence in front of her, slowly rotating as she watched it. It was weird, angular. The topology was all wrong, like she was seeing part of something and the rest was hidden within what she could actually see…

‘Nisa?’ Faline said, her voice holding a hint of concern.

‘Can… can you see that?’ Nisa asked.

‘I see you, holding the coin.’

‘You can’t see the shape? It’s… hanging there, over the coin.’

‘I see nothing over the coin, just your finger.’

Nisa moved her finger and the shape seemed to shatter, breaking apart and evaporating into silver dust. ‘It was… It felt like something I should know, but it… It was all wrong, like I wasn’t seeing all of it, even though it was right there in front of me.’

‘A message,’ Faline said. ‘They’ve given you a message. Something you are meant to understand, presumably at some point in the future.’

‘They couldn’t just tell me?’

‘Nisa, nothing worth having is easy to come by.’

Westminster, August 15th.

Nisa grumbled to herself as she filled in yet more paperwork to get her hands on the contents of Brian’s inbox. It seemed as though Faline’s words were true of mundane information as well as arcane.

‘GCHQ probably has all of this filed away in a database,’ she mumbled to herself, ‘and I have to jump through hoops for it.’

‘The controls are there for a reason,’ Kellog said from the doorway. ‘It stops people snooping when they have no right to.’ He paused and then added, ‘Theoretically anyway. File that for now. There’s something else come up.’

Nisa saved her draft and followed Kellog out to a section of the building she knew all too well, though to a different room than the one she had spent long hours in recuperating from the incubus. There was a darkened observation room beside one of the medical rooms, and on the other side of the one-way mirror Sandra was tending to a woman in her mid-twenties who was sitting in the bed looking… Well, drained was the best that Nisa could come up with. She looked tired, spent.

‘Another incubus?’ Nisa asked after watching for a few seconds.

‘No, this is different. Her name is Emily Copper. She was reported missing by friends when she failed to turn up for work on Monday. She was found on Hampstead Heath this morning. It was thought that she was drunk, initially. She was confused, stumbling, basically incoherent.’

Norbery slid into the room giving Kellog and Nisa a nod. He looked angry. There was a tightness around his eyes that Nisa had never seen there before.

‘When the local police finally got a statement out of her,’ Kellog went on, ‘they passed her to us. She claims she was kidnapped, tortured, and then a demon came and took her soul.’ He looked at Norbery.

‘She’s telling the truth,’ Norbery said tightly. ‘There’s nothing left. You get this one, Brandon. Get him and…’ The witch pulled in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. ‘Just get him.’

‘We will,’ Kellog replied. His gaze turned to Nisa. ‘I want you to go in there and question her.’

‘Me? But–’

‘She’s more tense around men,’ Norbery said. ‘I’m not sure whether the torture involved sexual abuse, but it was done by a man and she’s clearly afraid of them. I used my best bedside manner and she was still watching me the whole time. You may be able to get her to open up.’

‘If necessary, go for empathy,’ Kellog said. ‘You’ve been through your own traumatic experience with the supernatural. That may help.’

Nisa sighed. ‘Okay. I’ll read up on what her statement says and go in.’

~~~

Emily Copper did seem to relax when she saw a woman entering the room. Nisa gave her a small smile as she picked up a chair and brought it over to the side of the bed. It was pretty clear that Emily was traumatised, but exactly what had caused the trauma was only a guess. Her statement had been vague to say the least.

‘Miss Copper, I’m Nisa Harper. I’m with the police, but, uh, don’t let that worry you too much.’

Emily gave a timid smile back. ‘I seem to have caused a lot of fuss,’ she said. ‘I like your nurse.’

‘Sandra’s great. She looked after me when… Well… I need to know what you remember of what happened to you. We want to find the person who did this and make sure he never does it again.’

Emily seemed to sink in on herself, her arms wrapping around her waist and her legs pulling up. ‘I… It’s all a bit… I don’t think I want to remember it.’

‘I know. Someone did something to you, something horrible, and you just want to forget it. If you don’t remember then it didn’t really happen.’

‘Yes…’

‘That’s the thing. It did and we need to catch this bastard.’

Emily sighed. ‘I remember… I was walking home. I was nervous because… This is going to sound silly.’

Nisa smiled. ‘Silly takes on a whole new meaning in this job.’

‘I’d seen someone following me. Or I thought I had, but whenever I looked closely it was just shadows. Made me nervous though, so when this man stepped in front of me I jumped. I remember apologising and he smiled and said something.’

‘What?’

‘I’m not really sure. It sounded like Latin or something. Then I… I’m not really sure. It was like I fell asleep.’

‘Do you remember what the man looked like?’

‘Uh… my height, thin, he had a narrow sort of face, quite a long nose.’

‘Hair?’

‘Short. I think. Blonde… or grey. It’s like… It’s like I could only ever see him through fog. His eyes. I remember his eyes. They were blue, really hard, icy blue.’

Nisa gave a nod. ‘Okay, what happened when you woke up?’

‘I woke up… naked. Hung from a beam by my wrists. I think it was an attic room. One of the walls was sloping. There were no windows. The man was there. He… he hurt me. He never touched me, but there was so much pain…’ She pulled herself up tighter, and her voice was cut off by the soft sobs which began to burst out of her as though she was trying to hold them back but simply could not.

Nisa had no idea what to do. Comforting the woman verbally seemed useless, and physically might be inappropriate. But she had to do something…

‘I… don’t remember what happened to me,’ Nisa said. ‘Not like the way you can’t remember his face. There’s just nothing there. I remember a man walking into the place I worked and speaking to me, and then I was here. I know what he did though. I know I just… let him do it. Right there, in the shop, over the counter, and there was nothing I could do to stop him. I know it happened, but I can’t remember it…’

‘I’m not sure whether that’s better or worse,’ Emily whispered.

‘Neither am I.’

‘I… I was begging him to stop, but he just kept chanting and the pain… And then the demon came. I know it was a demon. I mean, horns, pointed tail, glowing, red eyes. He spoke to it and it said it wasn’t enough, but it would buy him some time. And then… then it did something and… It was like someone was tearing my heart out of my chest. And then I woke up on the Heath.’

Nisa got to her feet. ‘Thank you, Miss Copper. We’ll find him, I promise.’ She said it, but she wondered whether, with a description like that, it was a promise they would be able to keep.

~~~

‘Glowing red eyes?’ Nisa said. ‘And a pointed tail? Isn’t it a bit…’

‘Stereotyped, yes,’ Kellog replied, ‘but people know the image and it scares them. Demons are immaterial. They can take pretty much any shape they wish. It was trying to keep her frightened. It makes it easier to remove the soul.’ He looked across Hanson’s desk at his boss. ‘This smells so badly of a rogue Order wizard I can almost taste it.’

‘Yes,’ Hanson said, nodding, ‘it does.’

‘Maxim is not going to let me in there to investigate without a warrant.’

‘True, and that will take time we may not have.’

‘Why?’ Nisa asked. ‘You think he’ll do it again?’

‘Yes, and soon.’

‘The demon said the wizard was buying time,’ Kellog added. ‘It sounds like he sold off his own soul, probably ten years ago. It’s due and he’s trying to buy his way out with other people’s. If Miss Copper didn’t give him enough, he’ll be trying to find another victim, and soon.’

‘Traditionally, he’ll get a day for every year of the original contract, so we probably have until the twenty-fourth.’

‘Oh,’ Nisa said. ‘It doesn’t seem very long.’

‘No, but we may be able to get into the Order faster if we dangle a carrot. I’m willing to bet that Maxim wants to meet our new detective…’

‘No,’ Kellog stated flatly. ‘He’s–’

‘I’ll do it,’ Nisa said before he could go on. ‘I want this guy. Maybe not as much as Norbery seems to, but… I’ll do it.’

‘I’ll contact the Order,’ Hanson said.

‘There is one other thing,’ Nisa put in as Kellog, frowning, began to rise. ‘She said she was nervous before the wizard grabbed her. She said–’

‘The shadows seemed to be following her,’ Kellog finished for her.

‘Yeah. You don’t think the two cases are connected? Maybe this wizard is using some sort of Bug to find his victims?’

Kellog’s frown deepened. Then he gave a shrug. ‘If we nail him and the sightings stop, then the answer is yes.’

Tower Hamlets.

Nisa had sent a couple of messages saying she had some work to catch up on and cried off going to Black Light. She was just not in the mood. There was the thought that being there might help her mood, but the events of the previous Friday were still fresh in her mind, with what had happened to Emily piled on top. Faline did not help.

‘The demon took her soul? All of it?’ the Witch Cat asked when she walked in from changing in the bedroom.

‘That’s what Norbery said,’ Nisa replied.

‘Oh… the poor woman.’

‘She said it hurt like Hell.’

‘Yes, but… Did no one explain this to you?’

‘What?’

Faline sat down more heavily than usual and then curled up into a tight little ball on the sofa. ‘You can erode your soul away through various things, including just becoming a foul, unpleasant person. That just means you’re lost to the Cycle. When you die, you’re dead. No reincarnation, just… nothing.’

‘Okay, but Emily had her soul ripped out.’

‘And that’s a sudden shock to the system. The body… doesn’t normally survive for that long after something like that.’

Nisa swallowed. ‘How long?’

‘The next new moon. The twenty-fifth. She won’t live longer than that.’

‘There must be something…’

‘It’s done, Nisa. She died when her soul left her body. On the twenty-fifth, her body will work that out.’

August 16th.

Nisa sat in the lounge, the coin in her hand, her thumb rubbing over the symbol which made the shape appear in front of her. It was in her mind, she had decided, not in front of her eyes, but she saw it as though it were a solid object and she could study it. She had been unable to sleep, so she was there, sitting in the dark, watching the illuminated shape turn slowly.

It reminded her of something, but it took almost an hour before she realised that the something it reminded her of was not a real something. The shape somehow encapsulated the form in her mind when she cast the light spell. It held the structure of that spell, but it held more. It was the shape of Energy, the fundamental concept, the magical essence. If she could understand it…

But understanding seemed just beyond her grasp. No matter what she did, no matter how she looked, the topology remained confusing. She focussed harder, concentrating on every detail, every spin and twist, willing the shape to reveal its secrets to her…

~~~

She woke up with a groan and a throbbing headache. Faline, now a cat again, looked at her from where she was sitting on the couch, tilted her head, and gave a meow which sounded a lot like ‘I told you so.’

‘Okay, okay.’ Nisa got to her feet, cringing at the pain in her muscles. She had gone to sleep sitting upright against the sofa. ‘Let me get some aspirin and I’ll get your breakfast.’

There was an ‘about time’ meow and Nisa thought to check the clock on the kitchen wall. It was almost midday.

‘At least I slept,’ she grumbled. ‘No nightmares.’ She got the bag of food from a cupboard and poured some into Faline’s bowl. ‘Actually, I haven’t had a nightmare since I brought the coin home. Maybe it is protective, sort of.’

There was a non-committal prrt followed by crunching biscuits.

With aspirin taken and a mug of coffee in hand, Nisa sat down on the sofa and began turning the coin over in her hand, making sure that she kept her fingers away from the symbol which triggered the shape. There were other marks on the same surface. It seemed likely that they had other hidden images attached to them, but she was unsure how to unlock them. And surely one indecipherable puzzle was enough?

Except that there was another one still hanging there: why had the agents, because she was sure they were agents, given her the thing in the first place? If it was meant to teach her something, which was her theory at the moment, it seemed wrong. The System did not like magicians, so why make a better one?

She put the coin down on the arm of the sofa. It was all a real pain in the neck, and she had enough of that already.

Westminster, August 18th.

‘Does she know?’ Nisa asked as she watched Sandra putting a tray of food out for Emily. The one-way glass had never been so welcome.

‘No,’ Kellog replied. ‘There’s nothing we can do so… It seemed cruel to tell her. We’ll make sure she’s comfortable.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because you would have behaved differently. Frankly, I’d have preferred it if you hadn’t found out until the end, but I figured Faline would know.’

‘We have to find this guy.’

‘Yes. Well, even if I’m not happy about it, we are one step closer, perhaps. Maxim has agreed to see you. Tomorrow, nine-thirty. Wear that suit.’

Nisa turned from the window. ‘How bad is this Maxim?’

‘With you, he’ll be all charm. Make up your own mind about him. He and I have history which I admit colours my view. Just keep in mind that he’s a powerful man, and a powerful wizard. He’s intelligent and he usually has an agenda.’

‘So, keep an open mind, but be on my guard.’

‘In your shoes, that would be my strategy.’

Tower Hamlets.

‘Wizards,’ Faline said, assuming a lecturing tone, ‘fall into three basic categories. There are those who have less talent and have learned to be wizards because they can. Some do it for the power, some do it as a hobby, and some do it for academic interest, but none of them ever achieve much. The ones seeking power can be trouble since they tend to be frustrated and that often leads to bullying.’

‘I assume the other two types are more powerful?’ Nisa asked.

‘Indeed. And they are categorised by their goals. The academic ones are usually safer since they learn the art for the knowledge, but they can go too far. The ones seeking power are far more frequently dangerous men or women. Oddly, the more talent they have, the less likely they are to abuse it. Having the power is enough, I think. They don’t need to prove it.’

‘Huh. Do you know which category Maxim falls into?’

‘No, but I’ve heard rumours. He upset a lot of the older members when he took control. He’s young. His attitudes are different. I believe he is a rather academic practitioner, prone to long hours in the library. But he also likes to party and that is not the kind of personality that goes with the rather stuffy atmosphere which prevailed in the Order prior to his rise to power.’

‘So… that doesn’t help much…’

‘No.’ The cat-woman grinned a little. ‘He does have a flirtatious reputation. If you’ll pardon the expression from me, he chases a lot of tail.’

Nisa gave a shrug. ‘He’ll probably like the suit then. I just hope he’s prone to handing out information to women he fancies.’

The City, August 19th.

The inside of the Order’s headquarters was as grandiose as the outside. Nisa had rather expected the door to be opened by a grey-haired man in a suit who peered down his nose at her, but the doorman looked to be in his twenties, maybe early thirties. He was wearing a suit, but there was no sense of superiority about him. He had put her in a small waiting room off the foyer and said someone would take her to High Grand Master Maxim shortly.

For a small waiting room, it was not that small. You could have fitted well over a dozen people in and it had a large fireplace on one of the inside walls, though there was no fire set. Over that was the coat of arms of the Order: a red shield with a white flame in the centre, flanked by a pair of dragons, one black, the other white.

Nisa was looking up at the emblem trying to work out the symbology beyond the whole ‘eternal flame’ thing when someone spoke.

‘The dragons represent order and chaos. The flame is said to keep the two in balance.’

Nisa turned and found herself looking at the pretty blonde from the alley. She was dressed in the same skirt and coat outfit she had been wearing then, and she looked just as attractive now as before. In fact… Was she pushing her chest out a little?

‘Sergeant Harper?’ the woman asked. ‘It’s nice to put a name to the face. I am Alaina Peters, High Grand Master Maxim’s personal assistant. I’ll take you to him now, if you’re ready.’

Nisa blinked, pushing aside the spell of Alaina’s body. ‘Uh, yes. I’m ready.’

‘Then please follow me.’ Alaina turned and walked out of the room. Nisa fought the urge to stay behind her so that she could watch the woman’s hips move, and won, stepping up beside her. ‘That outfit suits you better than the jeans and T-shirt I last saw you in,’ the PA said as they walked back through the foyer and into a long, vaulted hallway.

‘Thanks. I needed something… more business-like. I wish I could get away with something like that. I don’t think my bosses would approve, but it looks gorgeous… on you.’

Alaina flicked a glance at Nisa and then quickly averted her eyes, smiling. ‘Thank you. The High Grand Master likes me to look my best.’

They turned off to the right where a staircase led up from an alcove which was hard to spot unless you knew it was there. The architecture in the building seemed to have been designed to confuse as much as to look imposing.

‘How do you find your way around this place?’ Nisa asked.

‘You get used to the little tricks they used building it. After a while, the hidden stairs and obscure doors just don’t seem quite so hard to locate.’ She gave a tiny giggle. ‘I got lost half a dozen times the first two weeks I was here.’

‘And they teach magic here?’

‘Practical in the cellars and there’s a lecture theatre at the back. Most of the aboveground structure is offices, and the library. We have the best arcane library in the world.’

Two floors up they walked down a corridor a few yards and then in through a solid oak door. The office within looked too modern for the rest of the building with its filing cabinets and functional desk with a dual-screen computer system on it. Alaina walked to a second, inner door, knocked twice, and then pushed it open.

‘Sergeant Harper to see you, sir,’ she said.

‘Thank you, Alaina.’ The voice had a strongly masculine timbre and, when Nisa walked past Alaina into Maxim’s office, the man himself matched the voice. He was tall, Kellog’s height, and a good three inches over Nisa’s five-eight. He stood up to greet her and she got the impression of firm muscle, though not of someone who worked out extensively. She figured he was active, but not an exercise freak. His face was square, with a firm jaw and thin lips. His hair was black and a little messy, though with a hint of careful crafting, and his eyes were dark, almost black. Blue would have lightened the look considerably. The one feature that marred the handsome face was a high-bridged nose which made him look a little like a boxer. He was dressed in a three-piece suit, grey, with a bright red tie to give some colour. It was too old for the face which was, almost, too youthful for the power this man had.

He had a firm handshake which he held for just the right amount of time. Maxim was a man with a lot of skill in putting people at their ease and using that youthful charm he obviously exuded.

‘Sergeant Harper,’ he said, waving her to a chair before returning to his own. ‘I am, as I’m sure you’re aware, Alexander Maxim. I carry the unfortunate title of High Grand Master of the Hermetic Order of the Eternal Flame. Don’t let that fool you. I’m just a glorified administrator.’

Nisa gave him a smile. ‘I think you’re more than that, sir.’

He shrugged. ‘How can I help the Metropolitan Police?’

Straight to business then. ‘We have a woman in our HQ who has had her soul ripped out by a demon. It seems that someone, a wizard, sold his own soul and is trying to buy off the debt.’

‘And, obviously, that puts one of our people in your sights.’ Maxim nodded. ‘I can understand that, but we take something of a dim view of our wizards making soul pacts with demons. Just ask your DI Kellog… How is Brandon?’

‘Uh… He’s well. We think the original pact was made before you took over as head of the Order. As I understand it, the demon would not need to be summoned to collect on it…’

Another nod. ‘True… You’re new to all this. The magic, I mean.’

‘I’ve only recently discovered magic was anything other than a legend, yes. I joined Exceptional Circumstances in June.’

‘And already tracking down demons. While I can’t believe one of ours is responsible, I’ll make some enquiries. I’m afraid I can’t have the Met digging into our affairs without some solid evidence of wrongdoing, but I can point you at a culprit if I can find one.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Nisa replied, giving him another smile. This seemed to be going far too easily.

‘As I said, we take a dim view of such activities. And if someone is performing forbidden rituals to avoid the repercussions of past misdeeds… It’s just compounding one evil with another. You can be assured that I’ll make this a priority. Alaina will be in touch if we discover anything.’ He smiled. He had a nice smile. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get this underway, as well as dealing with all the more mundane tasks required of me.’

‘Of course,’ Nisa said, getting to her feet. ‘It was a pleasure meeting you, sir.’

Another smile. ‘The pleasure was all mine, Sergeant.’

Westminster.

‘You think he’s actually going to do as he says?’ Hanson asked.

Nisa thought a bit of visible consideration was required, though she already knew what her answer was going to be. ‘I think so. He seemed… He seemed sure he’d find nothing, but I don’t think he wants the problems associated with us discovering it was one of the Order. If it is, and he can find the man, he’ll hand him over.’

Kellog gave a grunt, which might have been disagreement or disbelief, or acceptance of the assessment.

‘What did you think of the High Grand Master?’ Hanson said, making the title sound more like an insult.

‘Charming. Political. He’d do well in politics if he wanted to go that way. I can see how he managed to get the position.’

‘Did you like him?’

‘I didn’t dislike him. I think he was on his best behaviour. Playing the “I’m a very important person” card.’

‘Didn’t make a pass at you then?’ Kellog put in.

‘No, and Faline said he had a reputation.’ Nisa decided that mentioning Alaina’s apparent interest was outside the scope of the conversation, unless someone actually asked.

‘Well, until we hear something,’ Hanson said, ‘if we hear something, we do it the hard way. We only have a few days. We go through the list of independents, track them down, and check them out.’

Kellog gave a grunt, this time a resigned one. ‘I’m not hopeful. Something like this… It needs the protection of the Order to make it work.’

‘I know. Try Gleeforth first.’

‘There is no way Gleeforth is involved in this.’

‘No, but he may have heard something, and it gives Nisa an opportunity to meet him.’

Kellog got to his feet. ‘It’s worth a shot.’ He beckoned to Nisa. ‘Come on, you’ll love Gleeforth.’

~~~

Gleeforth’s Rare Books was a tiny little shop hidden away in a back alley which bore the name Bedford Court, not far from Covent Garden, the old one, and well within walking distance of the Rabbit Hole. The only indication that there was actually a shop there was a small sign beside the door which was so faded that it was barely readable.

‘He can’t get much passing trade,’ Nisa commented as they walked up to the black-painted door.

‘If Gleeforth had his way, no one would ever come here,’ Kellog replied and pushed the door open. A bell rang. There was actually a small bell mounted over the door.

The front room was a confused jumble of random volumes on shelves and tables. It seemed to Nisa that it had been designed as a sort of fortress. This was the first line of defence. The books here did not look especially rare, though they did look old.

‘I’m going to guess he’s not big on e-books.’

‘Actually, he says they’re the way forward. You don’t have to go outside to buy them. He’s agoraphobic.’

Kellog made his way through the twisting path between the tables, between a pair of tall bookshelves, and through into the back of the shop. Here it opened out a bit and the books looked more… esoteric. There were leather-bound volumes, some of them looking like sets, and there was one cabinet with a glass front, which appeared to contain even older tomes and one scroll case.

And sitting at a small desk, half obscured by a shelf, was a man who looked to be in his mid-fifties, but aging badly. His hair was solidly grey and there were lines on his round face that made him look like a badly scarred moon. He had a hooked nose and watery, blue eyes, and the high-waisted trousers and thick sweater did not help the look.

‘Detective,’ Gleeforth said, ‘what’re you bothering me for this time?’ He had a slight burr in his voice, a hint of a Scottish accent.

‘Just some information, Gleeforth,’ Kellog replied.

‘Who’s the girl?’ The last word came out with a rolling ‘r’ sound which set Nisa’s teeth on edge for some reason.

‘Sergeant Harper is our newest recruit.’

‘Oh, she’s that’n. There’ve been a few rumours about someone replacing Xavier.’

Nisa felt Kellog stiffen more than saw it. The detective pressed on. ‘Demons, Gleeforth. Demons collecting on soul debts. What do you know?’

‘I’m assuming it’s not a general query. I’ve heard you’re looking into something. If anyone knows who the wizard is, they haven’t said anything to me. Rumour is it’s an old pact, money not power, and with one of the big names. That’s why he’s being lenient. Souls to burn.’

‘You don’t know the name?’

‘If I did, I’d tell you. You know that.’

‘You hear anything, you call. We want this one nailed to a wall.’ Kellog turned to leave.

‘Girl,’ Gleeforth said, reaching for something above him, hidden by the shelves. Nisa stopped and took a step closer, and he handed her a thin, hardback book. ‘You’ll be needing that,’ he said.

‘What did he give you?’ Kellog asked when they were outside.

Nisa looked at the book and had to open it to find the title. ‘Common Charms and Wards,’ she read aloud.

‘Old bastard,’ Kellog muttered. ‘John Xavier, my last partner. He wasn’t a magician, but he had some psychic talents. Psychometry mostly. Useful, especially on murder cases. We were hunting a vampire, cornered him, but he got away. Then he came back and got into John’s house.’

‘Oh,’ Nisa said. ‘And these wards could stop that?’

‘Done right, yes. It’s the basis for the myth that vampires can’t enter a house uninvited. Doesn’t stop them getting you when you walk out the door though. How’s your pistol practice going?’

‘Okay, I guess.’

‘Good. We’ll put you through the tests on Friday.’

August 22nd.

Nisa looked at the group of three bullet holes in her target and gave a relieved smile. The target was all of five yards away, which she thought was way too close, but that was the requirement she had been given and Kellog and Hanson were nodding.

She popped the magazine and cleared the chamber, and laid everything down on the shelf set aside for it, and then took off her ear defenders and the glasses Kellog insisted that she wore. Then she turned to receive the verdict.

‘Good enough,’ Kellog stated.

‘I’ve got the paperwork ready in my office,’ Hanson added.

‘Okay,’ Nisa said, ‘and I don’t want to ruin the moment, but isn’t the target a bit close? I mean, my accuracy is way worse at ten yards.’

‘Eighty per cent of police actions involving firearms take place at less than seven yards,’ Kellog told her. ‘Fifty per cent are under two yards. Next week I’ll start drilling you on point shooting. For now, the important thing is that you’re allowed to carry a pistol.’

‘And use it,’ Hanson stated. ‘Are you prepared to use it, Nisa?’

Nisa frowned. ‘I… don’t know. I don’t think I’ll really know until I have to.’

‘Good answer, but give it some thought. Shooting someone, killing someone, tends to be a traumatic experience. I’ve seen it destroy men who think they’re up to it.’

‘I’ll… give it some thought,’ Nisa agreed.

Poplar.

‘New bag,’ Jenna asked, vaguely indicating the leather shoulder bag Nisa was toting around.

‘Uh-huh. Decided I needed something for… stuff.’ In truth, Nisa had spent a couple of hours finding a bag with a large enough, zip-up interior pocket that the Glock would fit in. She figured that if she had to get to the weapon fast enough that the zip was a problem, she was probably dead anyway.

‘Bags,’ Jenna said, lifting her own, ‘are an essential component of a woman’s wardrobe.’

‘Agreed,’ Lena added.

‘And a man’s,’ Spike said. ‘At least they are if you lug around all the kit I do. How’s the statistics coming along?’ Wallace rolled his eyes.

‘Slowly,’ Nisa told him. ‘There’s a lot of data to work on, especially if you include all the external stuff. Finding patterns and correspondences in all that is not trivial.’

‘I know, but it could be really useful so stick at it.’

Nisa nodded. The statistics research was coming along slowly because she was getting less time to work on it than she would have liked. The last week she had not touched it since they had been spending a lot of time running between known hangouts of independent wizards and finding absolutely nothing. Everyone said the same thing: Kellog was right; it needed political protection to get away with summoning a demon to form a pact. No one outside the Order would have got away with it for this long. No one knew who had taken Emily.

‘You look kind of depressed, Ice,’ Spike said, his tone consoling.

‘Just tired. It’s been a long week.’

‘This is why I’ve never dug the work ethic.’

‘I don’t think anyone does,’ Lena told him. ‘On the other hand, money buys nice things.’ She pointed at Nisa. ‘Go buy yourself a new club outfit tomorrow. That’ll make you feel better.’

Nisa gave a shrug. ‘Maybe I will.’

Tower Hamlets, August 23rd.

Nisa had really expected to spend Saturday continuing the hunt for the rogue wizard, but Kellog and Hanson had insisted she take a day off, two unless they could come up with another line of investigation which might actually turn up results. Neither of them had looked hopeful.

So Nisa had gone shopping. Her heart was not entirely in it and it was not one of her favourite activities anyway, but she had visited a few places she knew and bought some things she thought would work together, and now she was trying to see if they did. Except that she did not have a full-length mirror so she was trying to see how she looked as best she could in the smaller mirror over the dresser.

‘It’s… very figure-hugging,’ Faline commented from the bed. It was still light and she was still a cat. Nisa wondered whether her viewpoint changed when she changed shape.

‘I’m not sure it’s me.’

‘It shows quite a lot of skin, and the heels on those boots are… How do humans walk in those things?’

‘Takes practice.’

‘I don’t see men trying to do it.’

‘Huh. Actually, historically men wore high heels. It became unfashionable because it was seen as effeminate and men were trying to be sensible and responsible. First started to help when riding. If you stood up in stirrups, the heel helped keep your foot in place. Oh, and then Louis the fourteenth wore heeled shoes because he was a short-arse.’ Nisa peered down at her boots, thigh-high, black leather, and she was wearing black, lace-topped hold-up stockings with them. The heels were a good six inches high. ‘I’m not saying these are even vaguely practical.’

‘The skirt is actually not that short,’ Faline went on. Which was true enough. The skirt and top were black Lycra. The skirt was high in the waist and went down to mid-thigh, almost touching the tops of her stockings. However, there were two bands of mesh at the bottom which made it look shorter, and the way it clung left little to the imagination.

‘But the top is barely there, yes,’ Nisa said. The top was a cropped, cap-sleeved T-shirt with a high neck, but it had a lot more mesh. There was a sort of bra of opaque material and a few bands at the hems.

‘The studded cuffs seem to finish it. It seems very much you.’

‘Well… all the bits are me, but does the whole scream Nisa?’

A buzz from the door halted any answer. Frowning, Nisa walked through into the lounge where the intercom was fixed to the wall. She was not expecting anyone. In fact, the buzzer got used so infrequently that she wondered sometimes whether it worked.

‘Hello?’ she said after pressing the button beside the speaker grille.

‘Sergeant Harper? It’s Alaina Peters. I have… something for you. Could I come up?’

‘Of course,’ Nisa said before she had really thought about it. Her thumb hit the door release button on automatic, and that was when she realised what she was wearing.

‘Oh… Oh what the fuck,’ she muttered. Then she darted over to the bedroom door. ‘We’ve got a visitor. Alaina Peters from the Order. She’s just a PA though.’

‘About the demon business?’ Faline asked.

‘Probably.’

‘I shall make myself less visible anyway.’ And she got up from the bed and vanished beneath it.

Alaina’s eyebrows went up when the door opened for her. ‘Wow… Are you expecting someone?’

‘Uh…’ Nisa stepped back, waving Alaina in. ‘I just bought them. I was trying them out to see if they actually worked on me. Uh, for a nightclub. Not, like, for work. Besides…’ Nisa indicated Alaina’s outfit with a vague wave as she closed the door. The PA was wearing a blue T-shirt made of a wide net and a very short, blue and white plaid skirt. There was a flesh-tone, push-up bra under the shirt, but it was almost invisible. She had six-inch, beige pumps on as well.

‘Oh… yes…’ Alaina unconsciously wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I felt like I wanted to… look my best. You know?’

‘I guess.’

‘So… this is where you live?’

Change of subject, okay… ‘This is it. Yup. It’s not much…’

Alaina looked around, a slight smile on her lips. ‘I like it. It feels lived in. I have a flat in Mayfair. The Order pays for it.’ Her pretty face scrunched up a little. ‘Doesn’t really feel like home.’

‘I’m not sure anywhere has ever felt like home, but this is as close as it gets.’

‘Yes…’ Suddenly she was fumbling in her bag, a small clutch purse. ‘Alexander found something. That’s why I came. Uh… we don’t know where he is, exactly, but we’re pretty sure this is your man.’ She dug a folded sheet of A4 from her bag and held it out. ‘This has all his known properties on it.’

Nisa reached out to take the sheet and her fingers brushed over Alaina’s. There was… something, a spark, a rush of energy. Alaina gasped and a shiver ran through her. To Nisa it felt as though someone had just stroked over all her erogenous zones at once.

‘Oh!’ Alaina said, her eyes wide.

‘It’s, um, static,’ Nisa said. ‘Cheap carpets.’

‘Yes… Yes, I’m sure… Static. I should be going. You have work to do, I’m sure.’

‘Yes… and I have to get changed. Kellog would look at me really funny if I went out on a bust dressed like this.’

Alaina bolted for the door, flustered. ‘I don’t know. I’d give up without a fight. You, um, you should definitely wear it to that club.’

Nisa watched the door close behind her. ‘Okay, call Kellog, cold shower… should be good to go.’

Windsor Forest, August 24th.

The only house they had not tried was just outside Windsor Forest, which put it in the Thames Valley District and outside their normal area of operations. Hanson had taken most of the morning to clear the incursion with everyone who needed to agree, and by then Kellog and Nisa had visited every other house on the list, with an ART unit, and were not happy about waiting.

‘It’s the last day,’ Nisa said as they drove toward the address Alaina had given her. ‘He’s probably already got someone.’

‘I know,’ Kellog replied. ‘The demon won’t come until it gets dark. We have time.’

‘Maxim came through.’

‘Yes.’

‘Kellog…’

‘Yes?’

‘He asked how you were, you know.’

‘Nice of him.’

‘He said something… Well, he said something that kind of implied something without saying it.’

‘Ask the question, Nisa.’ His tone was resigned and about as emotional as he got.

‘He said you knew what the Order did to people who summoned demons. He didn’t say you did, but…’

‘We did not summon a demon. If he was attempting to imply we did, then he was lying, but I think you’ll find he’s too intelligent to make the implication. He knows you would ask me, or one of the others, and it’s not true. I know what would happen to someone who summons demons because I was a member of the Order.’

Nisa relaxed in her seat. It did make sense. ‘Good,’ she said.

‘Not really. What we did was far worse. We’re here.’

He was pulling the car up outside a large, ornate gate structure before she could say anything else.

‘We don’t get backup for this one?’ she asked instead once they were out of the car.

‘Too complicated. Thames Valley doesn’t have a dedicated supernatural unit. If they have something they call on us, and using our own ART would have taken too long. So…’ He stopped outside a side gate which was more person-sized than vehicle, and he fixed her with a firm, even more serious than usual, gaze. ‘Remember all that stuff you learned about announcing your presence and proper entry procedure?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Well forget it. We go in, find this Jasperson, and we arrest him.’

‘Arrest?’

‘Yes, we arrest him. With extreme prejudice if he won’t come quietly.’

Nisa swallowed. ‘I get it.’ She reached into her bag and unzipped the pocket. The grip of her Glock settled into her palm, but she kept it there for now. Kellog nodded once and went through the gate.

The house was more of a small estate. There were two buildings, one a stable or something, the other more of a house. Both were local brick, but the stable had a flatter roof and Nisa was betting they were going to find Jasperson in the house because Emily had said the attic room she had been held in had had a sloping side to it.

They had had some time to run a check on him and had discovered some interesting facts. He was wealthy, very wealthy, but ten years ago he had been having trouble. Shares had fallen at the wrong time, and business deals had fallen through. He had been close to losing everything, and then he had suddenly got very lucky. All his misfortunes had turned around almost overnight. It was, Kellog had said, classic for a demonic deal. Everything was just about within the realms of possibility, but looked at all together it suggested someone had applied some influence here and there.

They were fairly sure Jasperson was their man. It was all circumstantial, but it was on the right timescale, and Jasperson’s membership of the Order was on record. He was one of Faline’s ‘not that good’ wizards, but he had found a way to make a real nuisance of himself.

The back door of the house was unlocked, or it was after Kellog had glowered at it for a few seconds. Nisa had ignored the click as the mechanism opened up. The door was obviously unlocked, because magic was not real and would not be appearing in any reports. Not that she expected the report on this case to be seen by many people.

The kitchen had a cottage feel to it, complete with a huge range cooker which looked as though it never got used. The lounge and dining room had a similar ‘country retreat’ feel to them. None of them had a wizard in them, and the upper floor with its four bedrooms and huge bathroom was equally devoid of people. They did find a coat lying on one of the beds, and the wallet in it belonged to one William James Jasperson. It suggested he was there, and Nisa was expecting to find him in the attic anyway.

Except that the attic had a window in it, which was not how Emily had described it. The light coming in from that as they edged up the stairs showed an empty room. There were boxes, an old dresser, and a blank, wooden wall. There was a beam running through at the right height for someone Emily’s height to be tied to, but there was no one tied to it.

‘Fuck!’ Kellog snapped, keeping his voice low, but obviously thinking they had hit a dead end. Nisa was more surprised at the display of emotion than she was at not finding anything. ‘Check around. Maybe there’s…’

‘Secret door?’

‘In this business, anything’s possible.’

Nodding, Nisa walked down the room, avoiding the boxes. The dresser contained a few old dolls kept behind glass. Jasperson had had a sister who had died young and the toys had likely belonged to her. Nisa made it to the wall at the end without seeing anything strange and looked back.

At the far end of the attic, Kellog was checking over the sloping area where it might have let through into the smaller wing where the kitchen was. She frowned. He seemed further away than she would have imagined from the walk she had just taken. Closing her eyes, she brought up the image of the outside of the house. She had seen the attic window from the ground and it had been closer to the kitchen than to the other end. But when she opened her eyes and looked, the window was in the middle of the sloping wall and…

There was that tension in her mind again, the feeling of magic happening somewhere nearby. It could have been Kellog, but she thought not. And… And the shadows were wrong. In the angle between the window and her end of the room, the shadows seemed deeper than they should have been. She walked into the corner…

And raised her pistol, automatically taking the stance Kellog had taught her and aiming the weapon at the man standing with his back to her. He had greying hair, was not tall, and that fitted Jasperson’s description. He was chanting something, in Latin, Nisa thought, and the result seemed to be that the naked young man hung by his wrists from the roof beam was screaming so loud that the chant was barely audible. Whatever was hiding the room was suppressing the sound because there was no way they would have failed to hear that horrible, pain-racked wailing.

‘Stop the spell,’ Nisa said, ‘or I’m going to put a bullet in the base of your skull.’ She was not actually sure she could hit the base of his skull, even at three yards, but she figured his back would do.

The chanting stopped and Jasperson turned, slowly. The man he was torturing sagged in his bonds, panting.

‘You mustn’t stop me,’ Jasperson said, his voice calm and soft. ‘I have to give Auns what he wants–’

‘Or he’ll take your soul. I know. That doesn’t give you the right to give him other people’s.’

‘I can give you money. When I’ve given Auns this one, I can arrange for anything you want. Power? The love of your life?’

‘Thanks, but I can get those myself. I want you to–’

He moved, raising his hand, fist clenched. She saw the ring on his finger just as he said, ‘Incendiariam ignitionem!’ She had no idea what it meant, but it sounded like it was something to do with fire and she felt the sudden flare of her magic sense as the ring began to glow. Reacting on instinct, her mind filled with the image from the coin and she wrapped herself in it as a pulse of light she thought she recognised shot from the ring to hit her in the chest. Fire blossomed and died as quickly as it had appeared. Nisa smelled burned cotton and squeezed off three rounds from her pistol.

‘Impossible…’ Jasperson croaked, and then he was falling forward, collapsing onto the wooden floor.

Nisa looked down to see skin showing through the burned hole in her T-shirt. The pink flesh was a little redder than usual, but whatever she had done, it had worked. She was about to step forward to check on her arrestee when something appeared over the body. It was indistinct, misty, but it looked like it had horns and a tail. It hovered there for a second, gave a hiss of dissatisfaction, and then vanished.

‘No point in checking him,’ Kellog said from behind her. ‘Auns came to collect so we can be pretty sure he’s dead.’ He produced a folding knife from a pocket and flicked it open, holding it out to Nisa. ‘I’ll hold him up, and you cut the ropes.’

Nisa stared at the body on the floor for another second and then took the knife. ‘Sure,’ she said.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Physically or mentally?’

‘Either, both.’ He stepped over to the man hanging from the beam and took his weight.

‘Physically fine. I’ll let you know about the mentally.’ Reaching up, she began to saw through the rope.

Westminster, August 25th.

Hanson had suggested they take Monday to sort themselves out and rest. Both Kellog and Nisa had been up half of Saturday night and it had taken hours to get everything taken care of at Jasperson’s house. Nisa had refused, saying she would take Tuesday out, if that was all right.

Partially she wanted to be doing something rather than being at home and dwelling on killing a man. Both Norbery and Sandra spent the morning watching her on and off to see whether there were any signs of stress. She was, she thought, taking it a little too well, but it had been self-defence and Jasperson had given her no time to think or much of an option about what to do. She had a ruined T-shirt to prove that.

The other reason she had wanted to be there had been the date and the time. At three in the afternoon she went to the little room where Emily Copper was sitting up in bed, because in less than fifteen minutes the woman was going to die.

‘Hello again,’ Emily said when Nisa walked in.

‘Hi… Can I call you Emily? I’m Nisa.’

‘I don’t mind. It’s nicer than Miss Copper.’

She was looking pale. She seemed bright enough, but her face was drawn and her eyes were losing some of the brightness which had been there before. Nisa walked over and pulled out the chair she had used before, sitting down beside the bed.

‘We got him, Emily. We tracked him down. He had kidnapped someone else, but we got there before he could do the same thing again. He won’t be doing it again.’

‘You… You killed him?’

‘I killed him,’ Nisa said. ‘I killed him. Shot him three times in the chest. He didn’t give me any choice–’

‘Good.’ The word came out as a whisper, but Nisa heard it. ‘I’ve never wanted anyone dead before. I don’t think I could have done it. Even after… Thank you.’ She paused and then said, ‘I’m going to die, aren’t I?’

Nisa bit her lip to force the tears back. ‘Yes. I’m sorry.’ She reached out a hand and Emily took it, squeezing her fingers.

‘Don’t worry. I’m not leaving anyone behind. My parents are dead and there’s no one special. No one to worry I’m gone or remember me. I think I knew… When it did what it did to me, I think I knew I was going to die then. Sandra has been looking more and more depressed the last day or so. It’s going to happen soon, isn’t it?’ Nisa nodded in reply. ‘Will it hurt?’

‘No. You’ll just… go away.’

‘Would you stay with me?’

‘That’s why I’m here. I didn’t want you to be alone. Mister Norbery would have liked to be here, but he thought it might disturb you.’

‘He… might have. He seems like a nice man. He seemed very angry about what had happened, but he was trying not to show it. Tell him thank you for me, would you?’

‘I will.’

Emily lay back against the pillow and closed her eyes. She looked tired, but serene, as though she really had been preparing herself for this since Auns had ripped out her soul.

‘You seem very young to be involved with chasing demons and wizards. Are you some sort of magician? A witch?’

‘Norbery’s the witch. I’m… something else. I haven’t been doing it long. I kind of got into this because… Well, magic is supposed to be a secret and there I was learning to do it all by myself. I got into some trouble, like I said, and they made me a deal. I work here and they don’t need to try to stop me doing magic.’

‘That sounds a little threatening.’

‘Yes… But… I guess I’ve never done much with my life before now. I have a degree, in mathematics, but I was working in a kebab shop. This place has given me something… I don’t think I realised it, but this case…’ She felt the grip on her fingers slacken and closed her eyes. ‘Goodbye, Emily,’ she said. ‘I’ll remember you.’

Part Five: Alchemy

Westminster, London, September 9th, 2014.

‘Happy birthday,’ Norbery said, putting a small, wrapped box on the desk in front of Nisa.

‘Uh… thanks, but… It’s in my file, right?’ Nisa gave him a grin.

‘It’s in your file.’ He waved a hand at the box. ‘It’s nothing much. My wife makes them. They give you some protection against the supernatural.’

‘And that’s nothing much?’

‘Well, she makes me one every season, even though I don’t get out much, so we thought you could use one.’

‘Huh. Well, thanks. Maybe I’ll actually meet her sometime.’

‘Oh no. Alison met Sandra just after she started, Christmas party. Then she spent six months suspecting I was having an affair. I told her you look like a goat.’

Nisa giggled and began unwrapping her present while Norbery grinned back and headed out.

It had been a period of ups and downs recently and Nisa had not been especially keen to celebrate her twenty-third birthday. Emily’s burial had been the first thing. Everyone from XC had gone, even Hanson. They had outnumbered Emily’s friends, but at least there had been someone there to see her off. Then Brian’s email account had been unlocked and there had been the rather satisfying sight of the smug looks being wiped off John Wentworth’s and John Junior’s faces when the phone and ring were found hidden in a box in the boy’s bedroom. Two days after that, however, Nisa had been there to see Brian fade into nothing. He had been smiling, but that was another one gone.

There had been more sightings of shadowy figures, and not even the slightest hint of a break in Nisa’s own mysterious shadow problem. Hanson was on the verge of putting the case in cold storage and marking it down as a Glitch. Nothing new had come up; aside from the shadow sightings, the supernatural world had gone quiet. The Skinwalker appeared to have decided to lay low and the shadows, while disturbing, did not appear to be actually doing anything.

Hanson appeared in the doorway, knocking on the open door to get Nisa’s attention. ‘I’ve told Kellog, he’ll brief you, but you’re going up to Manchester next week. They think that Skinwalker has turned up there.’

‘Oh,’ Nisa said. So much for the Skinwalker laying low. ‘Okay.’

Hanson nodded once. ‘Oh, and happy birthday.’

‘Thanks.’ Somehow the well-wishing did not go with the statement that came before it.

Tower Hamlets.

There was to be one bit of celebration. Nisa had bought food and a bottle of wine, and Faline had skipped the cat food to eat with Nisa. Nisa started cooking around seven. Forty minutes would see everything ready and then it would be sunset and they could sit down to eat. True, Nisa had no dining room furniture because she had no dining room, but they still felt it was a proper, sit down, birthday meal. There were even two cupcakes with pink icing, one of them with a candle for Nisa to blow out.

‘You’ll be all right on your own for a week?’ Nisa asked. ‘I mean, you won’t starve? Physically or metaphysically.’ Faline was watching from the floor and occasionally licking her lips once the steak had gone into the pan.

‘I can manage for that long, and normal food is not an issue.’ The cat licked at a paw. ‘I am, as I’ve pointed out, a superior breed of cat.’

‘Well, you’ll have my number if anything comes up. If there’s a problem and we need to stay longer… Well, we’ll work that one out. Maybe Norbery could come over to feed you. He knows you’re a Witch Cat.’

‘That would be acceptable, if absolutely necessary.’

‘He’s nice. You’d like him. And this is getting about where we want it. Can you change yet?’

‘I think so. I will meet you in the lounge.’ Getting up, Faline padded out.

Nisa checked the vegetables, prodded the steaks, nodded, and began to dish everything out onto plates. Then, a plate in each hand, she walked out into the lounge and came to a sudden stop. Faline was standing there, looking a little nervous, naked aside from some red ribbon which was wrapped around her small breasts and around her hips to form a very short skirt. Nisa had no idea where she had got the ribbon from.

‘I had no idea what to get you for your birthday,’ the Witch Cat said, ‘so I thought… well, that you could unwrap me later.’

Nisa grinned, handing Faline her plate. ‘Best present ever,’ she said.

Salford, September 15th.

‘We found the torso floating in there,’ DI Havers said, pointing down into the waters of Ontario Basin. ‘Divers pulled up the rest, aside from the head. We’ve never found the head.’

Havers looked pale under the summer tan she was still wearing. She was an attractive woman, not tall, but fit. She had vibrant red hair and bright, green eyes. The bright spark was also missing just at the moment.

‘The body came dismantled?’ Kellog asked.

‘We figure it was for disposal. Skinned and then dismembered.’

‘You’ve still got it on ice?’

She nodded. ‘Look, I’m a homicide detective. I get the weird cases because… Well, no one else wants them, but I don’t normally see much. When a skinned body turned up, HOLMES flagged it for your attention, but I’m honestly hoping this isn’t your guy.’

‘He didn’t dismember the last one,’ Nisa said.

‘Perhaps you found him before he did,’ Kellog replied. ‘I’d like to see the body.’

Havers nodded. ‘Come on.’

‘I don’t want to see the body,’ Nisa pointed out as they walked down the dock, ‘but I suppose I’m going to have to.’

~~~

Nisa looked down at the sectioned corpse and tried her hardest not to throw up. It was grey, distorted, and it had been chopped into pieces at every major joint.

‘How long was it underwater?’ she asked.

‘Best estimate is three weeks,’ Havers replied. ‘Pure luck that the torso got free of the net it was in.’

‘And the pathologist is sure it was skinned?’ Kellog asked.

‘Skinned or flayed. The skin was removed before it was cut up. There were some deep incisions, flesh cut away…’

‘This wasn’t a Skinwalker.’

‘You seem sure.’

‘It’s too…’

‘Inexact,’ Nisa supplied.

‘As my colleague says, it’s too inexact. They make mistakes when young, but by the time they’ve graduated to humans, they’re better at it than this. And the dismemberment doesn’t match the usual MO. They like to hang their victims as trophies. Disposal is usually not a concern.’

‘So we’re thinking this is a boring, ordinary, serial killer?’ Havers looked almost eager.

‘I can’t rule out something supernatural, but a normal human is quite capable of this level of violence.’

‘Huh. Looks like you’ve had a wasted trip.’

Kellog shrugged. ‘If it had been our Skinwalker, we’d have been sorry to miss it. Can’t win them all.’

~~~

They were staying overnight anyway so an hour later Nisa found herself sitting on the bed in a bog-standard, budget, business-oriented hotel not far from where the body had been found. The place was clean, and it had Wi-Fi, but it seemed too bright. Someone had carved up an unidentified person and thrown them in the docks, and this place was all white walls and pretty pictures.

With nothing better to do, she sat down with her laptop and began going over the statistical work she had been doing. It was still hard, but she thought she was making progress. If she just kept working at it…

It had been the same when she was at university. She enjoyed digging into mathematical problems and finding resolutions to them. Occasionally, as she worked and realised she was enjoying the work, she wondered how she had let herself end up in the position she had been in before XC had found her. Sometimes she thought of an answer, but it was not really an answer, more another question. She had been waiting for something, but what? The Hackers? Spike and his mysterious website? Kellog and Hanson?

Her phone rang, startling her. It was dark outside the window. How long had she been puzzling over the maths? She grabbed her mobile and hit the answer button.

‘It’s Kellog,’ his voice said, rather redundantly given that his name had appeared on the screen. ‘Meet me in the lobby. They’ve found another body.’

Moss Side.

There was a white plastic tent set up on a large area of disused land off Lloyd Street. The streets around the place were all terraced rows of standard, brick-built municipal-style housing. It was not the best of neighbourhoods, but even they did not deserve to have what was hidden in the tent happening in their area.

‘Wasn’t this the place with the riots?’ Nisa asked as they walked to the tent dressed in bunny suits, gloves, the works.

‘In the eighties, yeah,’ Havers replied. ‘The place has cleaned up its act since then, but it still has a reputation.’

‘Before I was born. Guess I should give it the benefit of the doubt.’

‘You take ’em young, Kellog?’ Havers said, grinning.

‘Harper’s got a lot of talent,’ Kellog said. ‘It was take her on or try to come up with a way of containing her. I’d rather have her working with us.’

‘You’ll make me blush, Boss.’

‘Don’t. It’ll look strange when you go pale in a minute.’

They pushed through into the tent. Even Kellog went pale.

The body was intact, which was to say that there were no bits missing. It was male. Nisa focussed on assessing the details to avoid seeing the whole picture. She could do that later when screaming into a pillow or hanging over a toilet was available. Male, maybe five-nine, dressed in fairly typical clothes for a younger man, T-shirt with what looked like a band logo, and faded denims. The laces on his sneakers were loose, which was the kind of dumb thing younger people did to be trendy. There was little sign that he kept fit: he was not overweight, but not heavily muscled aside from his shoulders and upper arms which looked almost swollen. He had probably had blonde hair.

And that was about as far as she could go because of the blood. His scalp was a bloody ruin, but not from cuts or impact trauma; it looked as though the skin had erupted, shredding and streaming blood down over his face. The skin on his face and arms looked as though it was loose, trying to follow the scalp.

‘There are chemical weapons which could do this,’ Kellog said in a detached tone. He was trying to isolate himself from it just as Nisa was.

‘We’re getting blood work done,’ one of the crime scene officers said, ‘but I’ve never seen anything like this. It almost looks like a disease.’

‘Oh, that’d be great,’ Havers muttered.

‘Most of these things are spread by contact with bodily fluids,’ the man stated. ‘We’re probably safe if it is something like that.’

‘It almost looks like something else,’ Kellog mused. ‘Could you get blood samples and some skin scrapings sent to our labs?’

‘I can arrange it,’ Havers said. ‘What are you thinking?’

Kellog frowned and nodded toward the tent flap. Nisa could not wait to get outside. The air in there smelled of blood and a few other bodily fluids she did not want to think about and… As she stepped outside and felt the tension in her head lift, she realised that there was something else wrong with the body.

‘Raw head and bloody bones,’ Kellog said once they were out and away from other people.

‘That’s a kid’s story,’ Havers stated. ‘A bogeyman. It’s a tale they used to tell around here to scare children into being good.’

‘Agreed. There are no fae answering that description and never have been as far as we know, but the resemblance to the myth… It migrated to the US, especially the southern states. I heard it when I was a kid.’

‘And…’ Nisa began and then stopped.

‘And?’ Kellog asked.

‘I could feel something magical in there.’

‘She can feel magic?’ Havers asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘It’s vague, just a feeling when there’s something nearby, something active. And it’s not reliable, but I couldn’t feel anything from the other body.’

‘Norbery needs to take a look at those samples,’ Kellog stated flatly. ‘Maybe the whole body if the samples contain anything interesting.’

‘Nothing much you can do until the results come in,’ Havers said. ‘I’ll take you back to your hotel and see if we can ID him.’

‘Huh,’ Nisa said. ‘Are there any clubs open? I don’t think I’m going to be sleeping any time soon.’

September 16th.

Nisa stumbled out of bed on the third round of knocking, made it to the door, and yanked it open. Then she looked, bleary-eyed, at Kellog, who had his hand raised to knock again.

‘What?’ she said. ‘I’m working on about three hours’ sleep here, so… what?’

‘We have a teleconference with Norbery in forty minutes. Havers is picking us up in fifteen.’

‘Shit. I’m going to stick my head under the shower for a minute. Come in.’ Kellog hesitated and she glared at him. ‘What, you’ve never seen a naked woman before?’ Turning, she headed for the small bathroom, not bothering to see if he actually did walk in.

‘Has Norbery found anything?’ Nisa asked over the noise of the shower. The water was clearing her head some and she could concentrate to ask questions which might be intelligent.

‘I believe so, but that is why we have the conference arranged.’ Obviously he had stayed.

‘Huh… yeah.’

‘Havers said that the toxicology people here found nothing particularly unusual. There was no sign of infection in the study they’ve done so far, but they’re continuing to work on it.’

Hot water was not working so Nisa switched the shower to cold and waited as long as she could before letting out a gasp and shutting it off. Her head certainly felt clearer even if she was now freezing. Her nipples were standing out like thimbles and she had goosebumps.

‘Are you all right?’ Kellog asked.

‘Cold water. I can think again, at least for a while.’

‘Ah. Nightmares? Being flayed again?’

‘Couldn’t get to sleep and a nightmare. Wasn’t flaying though, just a dark room, couldn’t move, and there were voices.’

‘Saying what?’

Dry, Nisa walked out of the bathroom rubbing at her hair. Kellog was standing beside the door as though he would rather have been elsewhere. ‘No idea. Or can’t remember. It was a nightmare; there were just voices in the darkness. If I’m bothering you, turn around.’ She started digging through her case for knickers. When she turned around from putting them on, he was still watching her. Maybe he had a libido after all.

Newton Heath.

The Greater Manchester Police had a rather modern HQ on the far side of town from the hotel Kellog and Nisa were staying in. Havers knew the roads, however, and got them there in time for the meeting, which took place in a very swish audiovisual conference room. Nisa was pretty sure that Norbery was in his office on a webcam, but that was XC for you.

The witch looked serious when his face appeared on the curved, telepresence monitor. That had to be a bad sign.

‘Norbery,’ Kellog said, giving a nod. ‘This is DI Havers, dealing with the case up here.’

‘Detective Inspector,’ Norbery replied. ‘I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but under the circumstances…’

‘You found something?’ Kellog asked.

‘Took me all night once the samples arrived, but yes. Both the blood and skin had traces of something alchemical in them. Frankly I’m not sure what, but it was there. The blood has some additional ingredients. Mood altering for the most part. Psychotropics related to lysergic acid diethylamide, tetrahydrocannabinol–’

‘LSD and cannabis?’ Nisa asked.

‘Or something similar. The latter acts as a vasodilator aside from the other well-known effects.’

‘LSD, THC, and something that makes your skin fall off?’

‘Something destructive, certainly. This smacks of an unintended side effect. Someone has used alchemy to combine a number of drugs which should not coexist, and the result is something which is twisting the users physically.’

‘Twisting is right,’ Havers said. ‘I identified our victim.’ She leaned over to where a mouse and keyboard were set out on the desk and clicked a few times. A photograph of a young, blonde man, maybe nineteen, appeared beside Norbery on the screen. ‘You seeing this, Mister Norbery?’

‘I am. He looks young.’

‘Nineteen three days ago. Philip Nairn. Family say he went out with friends to celebrate his birthday and hasn’t been seen since, but he did that on more than one occasion.’

‘That’s not right,’ Nisa said. ‘The body is too thin, and the corpse had heavier muscles around the shoulders.’

‘Giving a more hulking appearance,’ Kellog mused. ‘Norbery… Test it for Daath.’

The witch’s face paled noticeably even over the video display. ‘You’re serious? An alchemical elixir containing a Daath element. That’s–’

‘Supposedly impossible. Yes, I know.’

‘I’ll see what I can come up with. I’ll message you if I find anything.’ The display went to black.

‘What are you thinking?’ Havers asked Kellog. ‘And what’s Daath? I’ve never heard of it.’

‘Unreality,’ Nisa said. ‘Non-existence.’

‘Or more precisely,’ Kellog said, ‘it is the boundary between non-existence and existence. It’s a concept more than a thing. The tenth Sephiroth, the tenth path of magic. Forbidden knowledge, but not entirely unknown. Demonologists have been known to study it, and some wizards succumb to the potential. It can be the ultimate weapon, wiping something from reality entirely, or it can make impossible things possible. So here we have a collection of drugs which should not coexist, certainly not safely, and we have a fairy-tale monster which seems to be trying to become real through those taking that drug.’

‘And Nairn has a conviction for possession,’ Havers put in. ‘He was sent for rehabilitation, but it likely failed.’ She pursed her lips. ‘I know this isn’t the case you came here for, but…’

‘If Norbery finds evidence of Daath magic, Hanson will agree to us helping. You don’t mess with reality. Bad things can happen.’

Manchester City Centre.

Nisa stepped through the door of her sixth low-rent bar in the Deansgate area, walked over to the counter, and ordered a white wine. She was in stacked heels, a miniskirt, and a loose-fit, cropped T-shirt, all of which had been bought that afternoon on expenses so that she could trawl bars after dark.

Havers had tracked down a couple of people who had been out with Nairn when he had gone missing, and they had tried their best to remember where they had gone. Now Nisa was retracing their steps, more or less, in the hope that somewhere along the trail something would turn up which could lead them to the source of the drug.

It was Nisa doing it because she looked the part with her semi-shaven haircut, and she could certainly manage the attitude given that she was not that much older than the people who had done the original pub crawl. After six cheap bars and a couple of more expensive ones, she was feeling a lot older. The ‘gentleman’s club’ had been a real barrel of laughs. Though, she conceded to herself, it might have been more fun if she did not have Kellog and Havers talking in her ear.

‘This is the second from last we were able to get,’ Havers said as Nisa walked across the floor with her drink, sat down, and prepared herself to fend off offers to buy her more. She was taking the odd sip of her drinks so that she did not look too strange in the places, but getting drunk was really not on the menu.

‘This was a long shot,’ Kellog said, ‘and not an especially safe one. If Norbery hadn’t confirmed the Daath…’

‘She’s doing fine. I have to admit, I don’t think I could walk around town this late at night, on my own, in an outfit like that.’

‘You’d look great,’ Nisa said softly. She was unsure how good the pick-up was on the microphone. It apparently worked through bone conduction, and they had had no trouble hearing her, but she thought it was some sort of magic.

‘Not what I mean,’ Havers replied, though it sounded as though she was grinning. ‘I’d get mugged, or at least propositioned more times than I could count. Even the drunks are leaving you alone.’

‘I grew up on… well, not these streets, but ones like them. I still live on them. You learn things or you get the snot beaten out of you.’ Her eyes caught something and it took a second for her brain to figure out what it was she was seeing. ‘Speaking of which…’ Two men were in muttered conversation, one of them holding something in his hand which looked like money. The other seemed reluctant to take it.

‘You have something?’ Kellog asked.

‘Maybe… hold on.’

Reluctant Guy snapped something Nisa could not hear over the heavy metal playing over the bar’s speakers, but something was produced from a pocket and passed over, and the money took its place. Then the dealer, Nisa was sure he was a dealer, got up quickly and headed for the door.

Nisa waited a couple of seconds and then followed. ‘There’s a guy in here, looks to be about twenty, blonde, short hair, black jacket, black jeans, red around the eyes. One of you get in here and detain him.’

‘What about the other one,’ Kellog asked.

‘I’m following the man who just left. He’s the dealer. Might not be our stuff, but it’s the best lead tonight.’

‘On my way in,’ Havers announced.

‘What do you plan to do about the dealer?’ Kellog asked. ‘If he’s not dealing the tainted drug–’

‘I’m wasting my time. That’s why I need you handy. I’m going to see if I can get some from him.’

‘Nisa…’

‘It’s that or we tip our hand early.’

‘Be careful.’

‘Hell yeah.’ She was out the door and checking for the man. Denim jacket… denim… She spotted him and followed, her heels clicking on the pavement. She was not trying to stop the sound; she wanted him to hear her and notice her following. She quickened her pace, closing the gap, and then slowed a little as she saw his steps faltering. He glanced back and she knew he had seen her, taken in the walk, the look on her face, the way she held herself. He turned a corner.

When she turned after him, it was into an alley and he was standing barely three yards in. She stopped and waited for what she knew he was going to say.

‘You’re following me.’ A statement, not a question.

Nisa circled a little, keeping her distance, but moving out of the light from the street. ‘Yeah. Need a hit. Saw you in the club. The guy with the jacket. Need a hit.’

‘Talking to the wrong man, girl.’

‘Come on, man…’ She stepped in and he held his ground. ‘I saw you. I need something. I got money!’

‘I don’t want your damn money…’

‘Anything!’ She stepped closer, pushing her chest out, and dropped the tone of her voice. ‘You make me feel good. I can do the same for you…’

He stepped back this time, but his hand came out of his pocket holding a small, plastic, zip-lock bag with something powdery in it. The little light from the street suggested a brown colour, but there was something about it, a slight sparkle, which suggested it was not the obvious drug. There was also the tingle of something in her mind to suggest this was something else.

‘I don’t want that either. Fifty.’

‘Fifty? What is that?’

‘Best high you’ve ever had. You want it, it’s fifty.’

Looking reluctant, Nisa counted out notes from her shoulder bag and handed them over. He kept a grip on the bag as she took it.

‘I ever see you round here again, I’m gonna rearrange those pretty features. Got it, bitch?’

‘Okay,’ Nisa said. ‘I got it.’ He let go and she pushed the bag into her purse quickly, though it was more to do with getting it out of her sight than appearances.

He stepped out onto the street, turned the way he had been walking, took two steps forward, and then staggered backward, falling onto the pavement where he lay, groaning and shifting a bit as he tried to figure out what had just happened.

‘He was resisting arrest,’ Kellog said as Nisa stepped out of the alley.

‘Oh… yeah,’ Nisa replied. ‘I totally saw him throw the first punch.’

Kellog nodded. ‘You may have to punch me in the jaw later in case anyone questions it.’

‘And I will do it very professionally and take absolutely no pleasure in it.’

There was a grunt of a reply. She was almost certain he was trying not to grin.

‘Didn’t we want to follow him, though?’ Nisa asked. ‘I mean, tail him to his… lab, or whatever.’

Kellog bent down, grabbed the front of the dealer’s jacket, and hoisted him to his feet. ‘No point. This piece of rectal tissue isn’t making the stuff. But maybe he knows who is…’

Newton Heath, September 17th.

‘Where did you learn to act like that?’ Kellog asked. They were taking a break from questioning their suspect. The coffee in HQ was not great, but it was coffee and they had been up all night.

‘Huh?’ Nisa said in reply.

‘When you were getting him to give you the drug, you sounded fairly convincing to me.’

‘Oh… One of the Queens was a smack addict. Nice kid until she got into that stuff. I helped Trina clean her up after a really bad trip because… Well, I guess no one else was going to.’

‘You seem to have a lot to do with a gang you aren’t part of.’

Nisa gave a shrug. She was tired, she felt dirty, and she had not had time to change out of the stupid outfit she had been wearing for her not-pub crawl. ‘I… Trina’s kind of a good person, for the leader of a gang of violent, thuggish women. And I stay on her good side, without getting too much on her good side, and the rest of the gang leaves me alone.’

‘Must take some balancing.’

‘Yeah, but it makes things easier and… I kind of like flirting with Trina. She’s fun.’

‘You have an overcomplicated life,’ Kellog suggested.

‘Uh-huh…’ She stopped as he twitched and then reached into his jacket for his phone.

‘Results from Norbery’s analysis of that drug.’

‘Let me guess… Like the man’s been saying, there’s nothing in there that we could actually hold him on. It’s a legal high…’

‘Oh… No, this is much better than that. Come on, we’ll go talk to Mister Sudbury again. Just stay standing and play along. Okay?’

Sudbury was a fit, thirty-something with no record to speak of and the kind of solid face which suggested that was because he did not get caught rather than that he was innocent. He looked tired, but confident.

‘Mister Sudbury,’ Kellog said after reintroducing them to the room’s tape recorder, ‘are you still adamant that the drug you’ve been selling is entirely legal?’

‘Yeah, I am,’ Sudbury replied. ‘There’s nothing illegal in there.’

Kellog gave a grunt. ‘Well, we put a rush on the analysis and you’re partially right. The powder contains chemicals related to LSD and THC, but nothing which is technically a controlled substance.’

‘What did I tell you…?’

‘But then we get to the interesting part. Calcium arsenate. Aconitine. Hyoscyamine. Poisons, Mister Sudbury. My colleague here isn’t just a great pair of legs and a sultry voice: she’s also a scientist and statistician. What do you think the chances are of surviving that lot, Sergeant Harper?’

‘Somewhere between a snowball’s chance in Hell and a whelk’s chance in a supernova, Detective Inspector,’ Nisa replied.

‘Are those technical terms, Sergeant?’

‘Yes, sir. I could work out the numbers, but basically–’

‘But they don’t die!’ Sudbury snapped.

‘You say that,’ Kellog replied, ‘but we’ve got a body with several of the same chemicals in it. A dead body, with your drug in what’s left of its system.’

Sudbury was looking white. He had known about Nairn.

‘So,’ Kellog went on, ‘we have a body and you are selling what is a lethal cocktail of chemicals as a legal high. Whatever you think it should do, who do you think a jury will believe when arsenic, deadly nightshade, and henbane get mentioned? Or… you tell us who’s producing this crap and we see what we can do.’

Sudbury opened his mouth, hesitated, and glanced at Nisa. She just raised her eyebrows and folded her arms.

‘I don’t know where it comes from, but I can give you the guy who sells it to me.’

‘It’s a start,’ Kellog said, pushing a sheet of paper and a pen across the table toward Sudbury.

Salford.

Nisa struggled out of a fitful sleep and blinked at the light creeping in around the curtains. She fumbled her phone off the shelf above her bed and thumbed the screen on. It was just after four pm. Which meant she had had three hours’ sleep. Not enough, but she had a feeling she was not going to get much more.

The dream had been there again. Darkness and voices, but she thought she remembered hearing Sudbury mentioned, and another name, Harold. Except that Sudbury’s first name was Edward. She shrugged and peeled back the slightly damp sheets. It was a dream, or a nightmare, and they did not have to make sense. And she needed a shower, and coffee.

Twenty minutes later she was sitting in a sports bar on the Quays with a cup of coffee watching the news on a TV mounted at the back of the bar. The announcer was saying that the Manchester police had raided several addresses throughout the city that afternoon following the discovery of a drug ring. There was an additional warning that the ring had been cutting their product with arsenic compounds.

‘Shit like that on the streets,’ the barman grumbled. ‘No wonder the place is going to the dogs.’

Nisa gave him a smile and said nothing. They had left the heavy work to the locals figuring that they could handle it and if anything particularly odd was found it would not take long to get there. It looked like the case was wrapped and they could go home, but somehow Nisa felt that it was not over.

Her phone buzzed and she picked up her coffee, taking it across to an empty table and answering as she walked.

‘Where are you?’ Kellog’s voice asked without preamble.

‘Sports bar down the road. They have decent coffee.’

‘Huh. Havers is on her way over with some information. We’re heading back in the morning, but it looks like the job’s not done yet.’

‘No?’ She wondered whether he caught her lack of surprise.

‘No. Looks like this stuff is being made down south. Manchester is just the test bed.’

‘And Havers couldn’t have just sent the information?’

‘She wants to say goodbye, thank us for the help. We’re going out to dinner. Be about an hour.’

‘Oh… great. I have nothing to wear.’

~~~

The restaurant at the Lowry Centre seemed like a nice place, kind of modern to go with the design of the building. Nisa thought that a bit incongruous given the kind of thing Lowry had painted, but it was at least a good thing that the place was, more or less, in the area he had lived.

She felt a little incongruous herself in the skirt, top, and heels she had bought for her undercover work. She had managed to get the outfit cleaned and pressed in thirty minutes at a local dry cleaner, but she was not sure the outfit went with the setting. Havers was actually in a dress though, quite a short one, so it felt less wrong. Kellog was, of course, in a suit. At least he had dumped the tie.

‘So,’ Havers said, ‘the supplier at this end is singing like it’s spring and the sap is rising. He’s given us the location of the main lab. They’re using an old industrial unit on the edge of some place called Harold Hill.’

Nisa felt a shiver run down her spine. Harold Hill. Sudbury and Harold had been in the dream, and here they were again.

‘I know the place,’ Kellog said, his eyes scanning the menu. ‘It’s out on the A12. We can get authorisation to hit it, but some surveillance would probably not go amiss.’

‘I’d hurry. They’re going to know we hit their operation up here.’

‘You’ve sent the data to the Rabbit Hole?’ Havers gave a nod and Kellog took out his phone. He was pretty quick at typing with one thumb. ‘Hanson will have the place under watch inside of an hour if I know her.’

‘Then we’re officially handing the case off to you. Keep us up to date.’

Kellog gave a nod. ‘The carbonara, I think. After last night I don’t want anything heavy. I believe I’ll even have a glass of wine.’

‘That does it,’ Nisa said, trying to get back into the mood, ‘the world is about to end.’

~~~

There had been more than one glass of wine. Havers was not drinking, since she was driving, and a bottle had been shared between Nisa and Kellog, though she thought she had had more than him. She was certainly feeling a little tipsy as he escorted her to her room.

‘You are a little drunk,’ he commented as she tried to open the door.

‘I’m just nicely stewed,’ she replied. ‘Hopefully I’ll sleep better.’

‘I know a charm for hangovers.’

Nisa giggled, the door opened, and she started to fall through it. Kellog either had good reflexes or he was expecting something like that. He caught her, his hands on her ribs. She felt his fingers push against the underside of her right breast and, almost surprisingly, there was a sudden warm feeling between her legs.

‘You aren’t wearing anything under that top, are you?’ Kellog commented.

‘No.’

Pulling her upright, he slid his thumb over bare flesh. His other hand slid over her stomach. The warmth grew and she felt his chest, firm and strong, against her back. He was not moving his hands.

‘Do you want to come in?’ she whispered before her brain had caught up with what she was saying.

‘I… can’t.’ The hands were gone. He stepped back and walked away quickly, almost as if he did not trust himself to keep going if he moved slower.

‘Well… crap,’ Nisa muttered.

Westminster, London, September 18th.

‘We have eyes and ears on the building,’ Hanson said. ‘There have been comings and goings, but no indication that they’ve been disturbed or that they plan to leave.’

‘That seems… odd,’ Kellog said.

‘Yes, but we’re going to avoid looking this gift in the teeth and keep an eye on them. We’ll observe for as long as possible and then hit them.’

‘When?’ Nisa asked. ‘I’m, uh, assuming you’ll want me there.’

‘And armed,’ Hanson replied. ‘It seems likely that these people will take our intrusion ungracefully. However, you never can tell. Perhaps these are sensible criminals.’

‘Isn’t that some kind of oxymoron?’

‘Often. To answer your question, Sunday. Unless they make a move or we see additional difficulty, we’ll go in on Sunday.’

Harold Hill, September 21st.

‘Industrial unit’ was, perhaps, an overly generous description of the building. It was more like a hut formed of prefabricated structures bolted together and held up off the ground on breeze blocks, though there was one more permanent, concrete structure set beside it.

Nisa felt strangely tense as she watched the doors through a pair of binoculars. Yes, she was about to go on a raid into a drug lab, but the really hard work was going to be down to the ART officers. Unlike going into Jasperson’s house, this time she was in an anti-knife vest which she had been told would stop light gunfire. The gas mask was something of an inconvenience and she was not sure she was going to get used to that any time soon, but it could wait until they went in and it seemed a wise precaution.

Still, with all the prep, she felt as though something bad was going to happen. The dream was still haunting her and she could not shake the feeling that it meant something.

‘We’re ready,’ Kellog said. ‘Team A will hit the hut. We’ll go into the concrete building with team B.’

‘You think that’ll be where the main lab is?’ Nisa asked.

‘I think if I were manufacturing alchemical drugs I didn’t want someone to know about, I’d use the building with no windows.’

‘Good point.’

One of the ART guys waved at them, and it was time to go. And it all became a rush. Nisa brought up the rear, pulling on her mask as she went and then readying her pistol. She heard two loud bangs as the lead men breached the doors with frangible rounds from shotguns. She heard shouting from the other building, but there seemed to be no one in the concrete building.

There were tables with various odd-looking chemical apparatus on them. Nisa had no clue about alchemy, but she did know that alchemists had been the forerunners of chemists, and that some of the basic equipment had remained unchanged. Things bubbled in glass globes with long spouts attached. Bunsen burners hissed as they gave off hot, blue flames. There were even spiral tubes of glass with liquids shunting along them periodically. It almost looked too haphazard to be a functioning production facility.

Nisa’s sense of dread was just getting deeper, but there was something else now, something more specific. There was something magical in the building with them and, somehow, it felt wrong.

‘It’s clear, sir,’ an officer said to Kellog, his voice muffled by his mask, ‘but there’s something in the back you should see.’

He took them to a screened-off section at the rear of the building and they looked down at the hole which had been cut into the concrete base. It was rough, hacked out with pickaxes at best estimate, and then they had dug down further, but the soil looked odd, wrong, as though it had been soaked in oil, and the concrete appeared to have eroded.

As Nisa looked down, something seemed to pulse in the pit. There was something there, shifting in the darkness. She frowned and stared harder, but whatever it was, it was not going to show itself.

‘Can I get a light here?’ she called out.

‘You see something?’ Kellog asked.

‘Not sure, but I feel something. I think there’s something down there.’

There was another pulse and this time Kellog saw it. ‘Like… a light through water,’ he said.

‘Maybe.’ Nisa turned as one of the men arrived with a large search-and-rescue lamp. ‘Let’s see if this helps.’ Turning the light on, Nisa pointed it down the hole.

The pain in her head was sudden and intense. She thought she heard Kellog yell something, maybe ‘get back,’ but she was momentarily paralysed by the overwhelming sense of magic. Something like a strong electric current washed over her skin and her muscles tensed, and the pain grew to unbearable levels…

Part Six: The Real World

Bloomsbury, London, November 15th, 2036.

‘Man, I never thought she’d get nailed by the Glitch in the drug lab.’

Nisa heard the voice and struggled to figure out what she was hearing, and who. And while she was at it, where the fuck she was. It had sounded a little like Alexander Maxim, but somehow not.

‘Twenty quid.’ That voice was Norbery’s. ‘I called it.’

‘Be quiet, the both of you.’ Kellog? ‘She’s coming around.’

Nisa’s eyes flickered open and she looked up at a ring of expectant faces. She recognised all of them, but somehow they were not the same people. Kellog was smiling at her. Maxim was also smiling, but he looked all wrong in a band T-shirt and torn jeans. Norbery looked about the same, but there was no wedding ring on his finger. Sandra seemed about the same, down to a white dress which looked like a nurse’s uniform, and she was checking displays on…

Tilting her head back, Nisa could see the huge machine behind her. It was, as best she could tell, some sort of computer system with a tunnel built into it a bit like you saw on an MRI machine. The technology looked… No, the technology was far too advanced.

‘What…’ she said. ‘What’s going on? Where am I?’

Various smiles faded. ‘What do you remember?’ Kellog asked. ‘You know who you are?’

‘Nisa Harper. I was… I was raiding a drug lab.’

‘Oh shit,’ Norbery muttered.

‘We knew this was a possibility,’ Kellog said, calmly. ‘We knew the depth of immersion might result in some difficulty returning to the real world.’

‘The… real world?’ Nisa asked.

Kellog nodded. ‘Your name is Nisa Harper; you are not a mathematics drop-out turned magical policewoman. You are a computer sciences researcher at UCL. We’ve been conducting experiments into wireless neural induction technologies. Total immersion virtual reality for everyone, not just people with wires in their heads. You volunteered to be first to try a long-term run. You’ve been inside a computer-generated virtual world for the past three days…’

‘Three days! I was… I mean, I remember my childhood, growing up. It’s been months since I joined XC!’

‘Most of it is implanted memories,’ Norbery told her. ‘The game began when you first cracked the light spell. That was your starting character skill.’

‘It… was a game?’

‘Well, game is not quite the right word,’ Maxim said. ‘The initial conditions are set, but once it’s running, it’s like… being in a novel which your mind is writing along with the computer.’ He grinned. ‘That is a brilliant piece of programming, by the way. You should be proud of yourself.’

Nisa pushed herself into a sitting position and then swung her legs off the side of the bench she was lying on. It was on rollers, designed to move into the cavity in the computer. And she was wearing what looked like a plastic hospital gown.

‘What’s the date?’ she asked.

‘Fifteenth of November,’ Kellog replied, ‘twenty-thirty-six.’

Nisa closed her eyes. ‘None of this is making sense. I’ll get my real memories back soon, right?’

‘That’s part of the experiment. We don’t absolutely know.’

‘They should come back,’ Sandra put in. ‘We’re just not sure how long it’ll take, and it may come back in dribs and drabs, or all in a rush. All your medical readouts are in the green. I think the best thing would be to get you home and save the complicated debriefing until Monday.’

There were nods, but Nisa was not so sure. ‘I don’t think I should be alone…’

Kellog winced. ‘You won’t be. Sandra, you’d best ring ahead…’

Isle of Dogs.

She lived, apparently, in a modern apartment building on the river. It looked expensive, very expensive, so she figured virtual reality research paid well. Kellog had suggested they stay quiet on the drive over. He said it was best not to confuse her with details. Her home would let her sink back into the real world and probably help her get her memories back.

He dropped her off outside the building and told her that it was apartment thirty-three, and she watched him drive away… Or she had watched the car drive away since it could do that perfectly well without his assistance. There had been Google logos all over the place on the thing. Maybe they had taken over the world. Spike had always said they…

Spike was a computer program in a VR system. She had to try to remember that. Turning, she headed for the door.

A black cat welcomed her into the apartment, rubbing around her legs and making her giggle as she walked down a short hall and into a large, open lounge with a huge window opening on to a balcony. She could see the Thames slipping past below.

‘Yes, Faline, she’s back. Don’t make her break her neck now she’s here.’

Nisa turned at the sound of the voice. Alaina Peters was standing in a doorway, bedroom or kitchen, Nisa was not sure. She remembered none of the layout. Alaina was dressed in a short, silky wrap, her feet bare. The real one seemed just as sexy as the virtual one and… And it made sense of the weird attraction she had felt to the character in the game. She had wanted virtual Alaina because in the real world…

‘Sandra called,’ Alaina said a little hesitantly. ‘You… really don’t remember me?’

‘There was a version of you in the game. I remember her, but… Sorry. They say it’ll all come back. Just a matter of time.’

‘Maybe we can jog your memory.’ Alaina crossed the room and snaked an arm up and around Nisa’s neck, and they were kissing. Nisa responded without thought, as though it was totally natural. It was totally natural, and electric. A dull throb began between Nisa’s legs as the kiss continued until they had to break for air. ‘How… how’s that?’ Alaina asked, her voice husky.

‘Not sure,’ Nisa replied, leaning forward to kiss Alaina’s neck below her ear. ‘I think there was something.’ Another kiss grazed Alaina’s jaw. ‘We should try again.’

‘Oh God, yes please!’

~~~

The door had led to the bedroom. They lay amid the wreckage of crumpled sheets, basking in the afterglow. Alaina’s breathing was still ragged and she lay sprawled on the bed, unwilling to try to move just yet.

‘That,’ she said, ‘was crazy. I almost hope some of this game you played sticks around. You’re never normally that wild. Not that I don’t love what you do to me anyway, but…’

‘Crazy can be good sometimes?’

‘That.’

‘Well, I’ll remember you properly soon, but for right now it’s like this is the first time.’

‘Maybe that’s it. I remember our first time. You were very eager.’

‘You are very sexy.’

Alaina giggled. ‘Thank you. I remember the second time too. You couldn’t wait and we did it in the toilets at a nightclub. Yeah, you were wilder back then. I think… I think the job changed you. You got more serious.’

Nisa leaned over and kissed one of Alaina’s nipples. The blonde woman shuddered and a soft moan escaped her lips.

‘Well, it’s changed me again,’ Nisa said. ‘At least until the memories come back I’m your wild child again.’ Her hand slid up Alaina’s thigh, eliciting another moan which became a whimper.

‘Oh… God… Yes…’ Alaina breathed.

November 16th.

Nisa walked out of the bedroom, still half asleep, to find Alaina sitting at the small, round dining table which was set where diners could get a good view out of the window. The day was overcast, the water looked muddy, and the buildings across the river did not look at their best in this light, but Nisa had another view to look at and did not care.

‘Hey, you’re up,’ Alaina said, smiling. ‘You were still dead when I woke so I figured I’d leave you. You seemed like you needed it.’ She was wearing a fitted shirt, the outline of briefs showing through at her hip, and nothing else, and there was toast with jam on it in her hand.

‘Must have,’ Nisa agreed, walking over. She leaned down and their lips met, tongues twisting around each other. Alaina tasted of strawberries.

‘Remember anything else?’ Alaina asked, her voice breathy.

‘Uh… not sure. I had this dream… We were in white dresses, standing in front of some stern-looking guy in a black suit.’

‘That was our wedding. He was called Mister Black, the registrar.’

There was no surprise at hearing the word ‘wedding.’ She was married. Nisa Harper had married Alaina Peters six years ago. Neither had changed their names. The honeymoon had been in Bali. They had barely left the bedroom.

‘Oh!’ Alaina said, standing and dashing for the bedroom. ‘This might help.’ She returned a few seconds later and held out her hand. There was a ring in it, gold with delicately carved, tribal-style traceries engraved into it. There was a similar band around Alaina’s ring finger.

Nisa had a quick flash of that ring being placed on her hand. She grinned and held out her left hand, fingers spread. ‘You put it on, like the first time.’ Giggling, Alaina slipped the ring onto Nisa’s finger. Nisa shivered as something like a little electric shock ran through her. She remembered sitting in a café in Soho, chatting with the cute blonde on the table next to her. After an hour and three coffees they had exchanged IM addresses. She remembered the swimming pool in their villa in Bali, Alaina swimming naked through the blue water while Nisa watched until she could take no more and they had made love on the flags at the edge. She remembered following a blonde ponytail over a hill in Wales on a hiking holiday that Alaina had said would be great, and they had ended up hiding from the weather in their tent for most of the week.

‘My toast’s getting cold,’ Alaina said, grinning and sitting back in her seat.

‘I’m starting to remember things. Bits, the ring helped.’

‘Good, that’s good.’

‘I remember Wales…’

Alaina groaned. ‘That’s one thing I hoped you’d forget permanently.’

Grinning, Nisa stepped behind her and started rubbing at her shoulders and neck through the shirt. ‘It had its good points.’

‘Nothing to do but fuck in the tent for most of the trip?’

‘That.’ Nisa leaned forward, sliding her hands down, and popped the topmost button on Alaina’s shirt. Her right hand slipped beneath the fabric, cupping Alaina’s left breast.

Alaina’s breathing shuddered. ‘D-didn’t you get enough of that last night?’

‘Never.’ Nisa’s lips met her wife’s ear, and her thumb stroked over the nipple it had found, teasing it into life. She pushed her left hand down, sliding it between Alaina’s thighs, fingers caressing soft flesh through the fabric of her panties.

‘My toast’ll get cold,’ Alaina said plaintively.

Nisa squeezed the engorged nipple and Alaina gasped. ‘I’ll make you more toast,’ Nisa said.

~~~

They sat naked on the couch in the lounge, Alaina in Nisa’s lap because Nisa did not want her further away, and watched the huge screen built into the wall of the apartment. The news was not good, but it seemed to be filling in blanks in Nisa’s memory, so they kept watching.

North Korea was, once again, threatening to invade the south. America was moving anti-missile systems into place at the border since it was believed that the North Koreans had functioning long-range missiles with nuclear warheads. The Middle East was still in a state of near-constant conflict. American forces were assisting Israel against Syria. There were comments regarding America over-stretching itself, suggestions that the economic strain might be too much.

Nisa could remember a trail of growing conflict over the past couple of decades and, while they were not good memories, they were memories. Anything was good, right?

On the brighter side, the Extended Thames Flood Protection Scheme, a huge dam system crossing the river at Gravesend, was nearing completion. That was the brighter side, the fact that London was likely safe from rising sea levels for the next century. Nisa could remember a very positive report on the first commercial fusion reactor going live a few months earlier. There had practically been dancing in the streets. Of course, it was going to take years to realise its full potential, but they had a new source of energy which did not heat the planet up.

‘It’s all kind of depressing,’ Alaina commented as the programme ended.

‘It’s helping me remember, and that’s not depressing. You know, back in twenty-fourteen there were still people who didn’t think global warming was real.’

Alaina giggled. ‘There are still people now who say it’s down to solar cycles and nothing to do with us.’

‘Yeah, but they’re nut jobs.’

Another giggle, and some squirming. ‘You know… I’m not hungry. We could eat late.’

Nisa grinned. ‘Haven’t you had enough after last night, and this morning, and this afternoon...?’

‘We haven’t done anything like this in ages and… And I want you.’

‘Whatever my lady desires,’ Nisa replied, pulling her into a kiss.

Bloomsbury, November 17th.

There was a man standing on the corner outside Warren Street tube station wearing a sandwich board with ‘This World Is Not Real’ printed on it. Well, you did get all sorts of weirdos on the streets of London, but this one seemed odd… for a weirdo. For one thing, he was dressed in a pressed, black suit, spotless white shirt, and a black tie. The placard people were usually hobos, or students desperate for cash advertising some shop or English language courses for immigrants.

Not that there were many of the latter about now. Flooding had made refugees of people all over the world and Europe had clamped down its borders. The UK, being an island, had done a more thorough job than most.

Nisa gave the man one last look before starting for the university buildings, and as she did, he turned away and began walking down the street. The rear board did not have words on it but three characters or glyphs. They were Hebrew, Nisa knew that from the game, but she had never learned to read them. Shaking her head, she went on her way.

~~~

‘I swear my character was up to no good,’ Maxim said. ‘I mean, look at that suit. That guy is evil. No one with that kind of power in a suit like that can be anything but evil.’

Nisa gave him a grin. ‘He seemed kind of nice to me,’ she said.

‘Evil,’ Maxim repeated. ‘Not that we’ll ever find out, of course. You got smacked in the face with enough magic to kill an elephant so that story ends there.’

‘And the whole thing comes out of my head?’

‘Yours and The System’s. Yeah, we never came up with a better name so it really is called “The System” until some marketing guy gets a hold of it anyway. It’s an AI, basically. We give it some parameters to work with. Like you wanted supernatural horror, suspense, and some romance. It feeds your mind images and sees what plays back, and then starts generating the story.’

‘That is pretty damn clever. And I built it?’

‘Yeah, and I hope your memory of that comes back soon, because you’re the only one who knows how it works.’ He pointed at the terminal behind her. ‘Maybe you should log in and see whether the interface throws up any memories.’

‘Yeah… I’ll give it a try.’

Maxim walked out, leaving Nisa alone in the dimly lit room behind the machine she had spent three days in. Here she was right in the core of the computer system, sitting in a semi-circular control suite surrounded by banks of electronics. She was fairly sure that she only dimly understood the equipment, even when her memory was operating perfectly. She programmed it, but Maxim was the one who constructed the machine. Swivelling her chair around, she tapped a key for attention and got a login prompt.

She remembered her password without thinking, which was a good start. Four screens flashed into life. There seemed to be a lot of icons scattered around them. There were two displays showing diagnostic windows and she could tell as soon as she saw them that The System was operating within expected parameters.

There was also another window with text in it. Good Morning, Nisa. It is a pleasure to see you have recovered from your first trip into my mind.

Natural language communication. They had decided against voice mode communications, but the AI could understand English and several other languages.

Nisa put her fingers to the keyboard. Not entirely. My memory is still a bit strange. I remember the game world better than this one. You did a really excellent job of immersing me in the story.

Thank you, but you programmed me, and I know you better than anyone else in the team. Nisa grinned; the computer seemed to have a fairly good personality. The disorientation effect will fade, but my estimation is that you will always have some disparate memories from the experience.

That could be a problem. If people went into the machine and came out a little disoriented for a few days, they could probably cope. It would be a holiday thing, four days in a fantasy world, three days to recover on a beach somewhere. If they were always going to be confused about which life they were living…

Of course, The System continued, it is always possible that you are lying in a hospital bed in Westminster, unconscious after a near-fatal magical accident, and this world is the dream.

Nisa stared at the monitor for several seconds before typing, Don’t joke about that.

I am not joking. How do you know which is the real world, Nisa? The one you experience now or the one we made together? When you can answer that, you will be able to separate the memories. Psychology is part of my basic programming.

Damn! Either she was a really good programmer or The System had developed some emergent behaviours that were really exceptional.

Okay. I’ll work on that.

She heard someone move behind her and a quick tap of the keys blanked the current conversation. She was not exactly sure why she wanted to keep it private, but she did. She was about to turn when hands landed softly on her shoulders, squeezing gently and then sliding down toward her breasts.

And she knew who they belonged to, and why Alaina had thought the job had made her more distant. The memories washed in like a tidal wave leaving her shocked enough that the hands were cupping her breasts before she spoke.

‘No, Brandon.’

‘Nisa, I…’

‘No. It’s over. I told you no more and I meant it. We’re both married and I will not lose Alaina the way Frank lost Alison.’

It had been Norbery’s messy divorce over a brief affair, which had ended his marriage and wrecked him for several months, which had made Nisa realise that she was being incredibly stupid. Losing a woman like Alaina would take someone with an incredible degree of masochism which was just not her. In fact, Alaina was the one who liked a little spanking, and that memory was really not needed right now.

‘I thought…’ Kellog began.

Nisa tapped a few keys, locking the terminal, and got to her feet, pushing Kellog’s arms aside. ‘You thought my fucked-up memory might give you an in? Well, I didn’t remember the affair until you put your hands on me, but now I remember calling it off. Touch me like that again and I’ll break your arm.’ She stormed out, trying hard not to look like she was and thinking she probably failed.

That made sense of some other parts of the game world. She had turned Kellog into an automaton in there. No emotions she would need to deal with. But the underlying sexual tension had been there, trying to come out, and it almost had in Manchester. Except that it had been him who rejected her… Okay, so not all the facts fitted perfectly, but this was her subconscious mind. Rationality was not a requirement.

Well, now she was going to have to get through the rest of the day with her betrayal of Alaina fresh in her mind, and then go home to face her. Nisa frowned. Well… Fuck that! She had made the choice, hadn’t she? She had decided Alaina was worth more to her than some guy’s cock between her legs, and if the last couple of days had not proved that Alaina was something special then… Hell, yes! Game-Nisa would have put it behind her and got on with being the little hellion Alaina seemed to be enjoying.

‘Maybe I could learn a few things from my other persona,’ Nisa muttered. What was it she had remembered? Alaina liked being spanked… Now that was something to dwell on rather than Brandon fucking Kellog.

Isle of Dogs, November 19th.

‘If you’ve got memories from two lives,’ Nisa said, ‘and one set is false, how do you know which is the real world?’

Alaina, lying in bed beside her, frowned. ‘I thought your memory was returning.’

‘It is. It has. It’s just that I still remember the other world. It still feels real to me, even if I wasn’t even born in twenty-fourteen. The System said I’d be over it properly when I knew how to tell real memories from false ones. It’s important. If people going in there end up with a second life that interferes with their real one, we can’t commercialise it.’

‘Oh. I’d have thought…’ Alaina trailed off. ‘Well, you could…’ Her frown deepened. ‘Shit, how would you know what was real?’

‘That’s my point. I need to know how to make it work, or we’re stuck. Don’t get me wrong, I know this is the real world. You’re here…’

‘That doesn’t mean anything. You told me you’d seen me in the game and there was this instant attraction.’

‘Uh-huh, you are an incredibly hot blonde, and I think part of my subconscious wanted you to be there so I could have you in that world too.’

‘Ah, but what if this is a hallucination, and your attraction to me there has become our marriage here?’

‘That’s kind of the problem, yeah.’

‘That’s… hard. Okay, want an even more fiendish conundrum?’

‘Not really,’ Nisa said warily.

‘What if you never left the game? What if you’re stuck in there and the thing that supposedly killed your character caused an in-game hallucination where you fantasised our marriage?’

Nisa groaned. ‘You expect me to sleep after that?’

‘Not really. I want to go again and I figured that’d keep you awake so we could fuck. I’m real, you’re real, my hand on your thigh is real, now make with the kissing.’

~~~

There were voices in the darkness. They were barely audible, indistinct mutterings, or someone talking far in the distance, but she could make out a few words.

‘…still fighting…’

‘…Probrum…’

‘…cat should…’

‘Nisa…’

~~~

‘Nisa!’

Nisa blinked, struggling out of sleep at the sound of Alaina’s voice. ‘Whu…? What? What’s wrong?’

‘You were dreaming or having a nightmare, or…’

Nisa shook her head and tried to focus. ‘I woke you?’

‘I, um, couldn’t sleep. I kept wondering if this was really my life or whether I was a figment of your imagination.’

‘Idiot.’ She pulled the blonde girl into her arms and spooned against her back. ‘Feel real enough?’

‘Yes. But just keep holding me to be sure.’

Bloomsbury, November 20th.

Nisa took a pull on her coffee and peered at the screen in front of her intently. She was checking everything she could on The System’s performance while she was inside it to see whether anything could have increased the immersion she had experienced. Especially in a manner which could have left memories more permanently than expected.

She seemed to remember her life pretty well now, but she still remembered Game-Nisa’s just as clearly. They did not overlap at all so it was almost like remembering a past life or something. She winced. Past life memories. She would have to remember not to mention that to Alaina or there would be another sleepless night.

Her phone buzzed for attention and she pulled it from the pocket of her jeans and thumbed the screen to life. She had been expecting to see a message from Alaina, but the number was unknown. Marketing crap, most likely, but she opened it and saw: 05d305e205ea. That was it, just a string of digits and letters. The repeating ‘05’ parts reminded her of something though, and suggested a string of four-digit numbers. Nothing larger than an ‘e’ suggested hexadecimal notation… Unicode! Three Unicode characters, but she was not familiar with a set starting with 05.

Draining her coffee, she tossed the foam cup in the recycling and headed for The System room. There were plenty of online Unicode translators, but she needed to talk to the machine anyway and she was sure it would be able to translate the code or tell her she was totally wrong.

The air was a little chilly. They kept the room cool, of course, and she had forgotten to put on her jacket again. Goosebumps appeared on her arms as she sat down and logged in.

Good morning, Nisa. How is the analysis going?

Nothing so far to suggest a problem. It may be purely psychological.

That was my belief. How can I be of assistance?

Nisa gave the machine a grin, even if it could not see it. First, please translate the following assuming three Unicode characters: 05d305e205ea.

Assuming Unicode, these are the numeric codes for the Hebrew characters Daleth, Ayin, and Tav: דעת.

‘Oh…’ Nisa said, staring at the screen. They were the same three characters that she had seen on the placard man’s sign.

My Hebrew database describes a word using these characters, Da’at or Daas, which means knowledge, or belief. There is no further description.

Nisa shook herself. Why would someone send her that? Who had sent her that?! Never mind, not now…

Thank you. I need another diagnostic run executing, core sectors 2943578 though…

Concentrate on her work. Forget the weird messages and the feeling of disconnection she had developed suddenly. Everything was fine. This was the real world.

Soho, November 22nd.

It was not Black Light, but it was a nightclub. The music was loud, the beat throbbing in your chest, the temperature was just a little too warm, and the drinks were too expensive, but Nisa had suggested they go out and this was where they had ended up. Frankly, she couldn’t have cared less where they had gone: the point was to be out, enjoying herself, with her wife.

They danced. Alaina had smiled knowingly when Nisa had suggested a club and had decked herself out in a skintight teddy and a tiny skirt. Nisa had gone with a cropped T-shirt and spray-on jeans. When they danced, they danced close, and the feeling of their bodies moving together, the brushes of skin contact, the little glances, all of it was adding up to an obvious conclusion.

And then Nisa saw the man standing beside the bar. He was tall, pale, and very serious-looking, and dressed in a black suit and white shirt which did not entirely look out of place amid the range of attire in the room. But it was almost as if no one else could see him. Or they were aware of him, since no one collided with him, but they were just not really seeing him.

Nisa looped an arm around Alaina’s waist and twisted them deeper into the crowd of dancers. It also happened to be toward the rear of the room, where the toilets were located, and Alaina giggled, making assumptions. The blonde looped her arms around Nisa’s neck and pulled in close, grinding their bodies together and staring intently into Nisa’s eyes. Her intent was obvious; this time it was Alaina who could not wait until they were home. Nisa twisted them through the crowd toward the bathrooms, glancing back once as they went, but there was no sign of the man in the black suit.

They found a cubicle at the back of the room which was unoccupied and fairly clean. The place was all black, marble-esque panels and dim lighting, dark and moody, and more or less perfect. Nisa locked the door and then turned to pin Alaina to the wall, wrists gripped firmly and held above her head. The kiss was hard, needy. Nisa needed to push the man in the suit out of her head. She dropped one hand down and found her way between Alaina’s legs. The silky fabric covering her there was already wet, but then Nisa was rather glad of the cotton gusset on her thong.

Alaina groaned into Nisa’s mouth and Nisa cracked the press studs on the teddy, one at a time. This was going to be quick and dirty sex, but a little anticipation always helped.

‘Want you,’ Alaina moaned.

‘Can’t have me,’ Nisa replied softly. ‘I’m having you.’ She squatted down, hands gripping Alaina’s hips and pushing her back against the wall, and then she buried her face in Alaina’s sex. The blonde lifted a leg, hooking it over Nisa’s shoulder and spreading herself wide. Nisa’s tongue lapped hungrily. Quick and dirty, and Alaina was already wound up like a clock spring. She began to tremble after barely thirty seconds. Her body writhed and her hands gripped Nisa’s head, pushing her in harder. Nisa retaliated by pushing two fingers into the hot, wet hole under her chin and Alaina’s back arched. A single squeak escaped Alaina’s throat and she jammed her eyes closed and her lips together in an effort to stay silent. Nisa could feel her on the edge, her body almost vibrating from the tension. Fingers ground in and out, and Alaina’s clitoris was bombarded by Nisa’s quickly flicking tongue…

And then there was the explosive climax and Nisa was holding Alaina up, kissing her as she smiled weakly, but deliriously, and tried to recover from the high. Finally, clothing rearranged, they left the cubicle vaguely hoping no one was outside.

There was someone, but she was ignoring them. A woman in a dark, quite stylish, suit. The white shirt had wide lapels and was open enough to show a little cleavage. Nothing strange about that in a nightclub, but Nisa felt her stomach sink. She guided Alaina toward the door as quickly as she could, but then…

‘Excuse me, miss?’ Nisa turned and saw the woman, smiling slightly, standing there and holding something out. ‘You dropped your wallet.’

‘Oh… thanks,’ Nisa replied, taking the folded leather object and pushing it into her jeans.

‘No problem,’ the woman told her and went back to the mirror she had been using.

‘Let’s go home,’ Nisa suggested, almost pushing Alaina toward the door.

‘But I don’t understand why we’re leaving so early,’ Alaina said when they were outside. ‘It’s still pretty early…’

‘Because… because you’re a naughty girl, and you need to be taken home and spanked.’

Alaina’s face flushed; yes, Nisa knew how to push her buttons. The blonde’s expression turned coy. ‘But what did I do?’

Nisa waved her hand for a passing black taxi. ‘Wearing an outfit like that in public. Getting yourself tongued in a toilet cubicle…’

‘We’re getting a taxi?’

‘Yes, we are. And I’m going to finger you all the way home.’

‘You wouldn’t!’

‘Naughty girls get punished,’ Nisa replied as the cab pulled over. ‘Now get in and pop those studs as soon as we’re moving.’ The idea was exciting and sexy, and Nisa really just wanted Alaina to be rushing.

Because across the street, watching them, was a man in a black suit.

Isle of Dogs, November 23rd.

Nisa had found the card in her wallet when she had got it out to pay the taxi driver. She had hidden it quickly, before Alaina saw it. It was the size of a business card, glossy, and printed with three characters; that was it. She thought she recognised them, but they looked a little different from the ones she had seen on the placard. These looked… older. So she tried the internet.

The Modern Hebrew alphabet, she discovered, was derived from the Aramaic alphabet. Aramaic was more of a language family than a language. It predated Hebrew by several hundred years, but had lasted less well. A few people still spoke it, but it was on the endangered list.

There was actually a Unicode character list for it, and she found the letters quickly enough: Daleth, Ayin, Taw.

The woman in the black suit. It had to have been her who put the card into Nisa’s wallet. Was someone trying to drive her nuts? Had Kellog set this up to get back at her for…? No, she had seen the man with the placard before remembering that she had had an affair.

‘What’re you up to?’ Alaina asked, wandering out of the bedroom wearing only a smile. ‘Not work, I hope.’

‘No, I got sucked into Wikipedia.’

‘Huh, yeah, I know all about that. I lost an entire afternoon once clicking article links.’ The smile broadened. ‘Last night was… wild. I came in the taxi you know.’

‘I know. The taxi driver knew too. He was quite appreciative.’

Alaina blushed. She was pretty when she blushed.

‘And look at you, standing there all naked and inviting,’ Nisa went on. ‘You’re a little slut when you get your wild side on, aren’t you?’

‘Only for you, love,’ Alaina replied.

‘That is what makes it so perfect.’

Bloomsbury, November 24th.

Da’at could be read as Daath, apparently. Somehow Nisa was not surprised, but the entry in Wikipedia for it did not quite match the description Game-Kellog had given.

There were similarities. Da’at was the ‘reflection’ of Keter, which was the blob at the top of the Tree of Life, the closest thing to God. Because of this, it seemed, Da’at was not included in the Tree at all, most of the time. It was a void, a lack of a Sephiroth, rather than one of the mystical nodes itself.

But it was also the root of the physical Sephiroth. Above it, everything was mental or spiritual, while the nodes below it, springing from it, were material. Da’at created the physical world rather than reflecting some capacity to destroy it.

Except that that fitted too, in a way. The corpses in Manchester had been trying to become something real which had never really existed. You could say the same for everything. Especially in the game, reality, everything had simply… become. At some point there had been nothing, except maybe The System, and then a universe had come into existence. Da’at had created reality from unreality.

‘Which all makes perfect sense,’ Nisa muttered, ‘in a game, or if Jewish Kabbalistic tradition is real, but not here. This is boring old reality…’

What if you never left the game? Alaina had been joking around when she had said it, and then she had scared herself into not sleeping with the thought, but what if…

Nisa got up and went to The System room.

What do you think are the chances that I never left the game? she typed. That I’m still inside it, and this is all part of it?

Insufficient data to calculate probabilities.

Okay… But it’s possible?

It is possible, Nisa.

Shit. Except that that was not really helping. There had to be a way… If someone were to implant false memories in you, how would you go about detecting them?

My memory is a large database, Nisa. It is key indexed for easy random access and cross-linked by an associative neural network to provide contextual access. Were I to suspect that my memory had been corrupted in such a manner, I would run diagnostic analysis of all cross-linked pathways looking for inconsistencies.

Well, that was easy for a computer to say. How was Nisa going to do it?

Slough, Berkshire, November 25th.

Both versions of Nisa Harper had been born in Slough and raised in a two-bedroom house on an estate on the northern edge of the town. Game-Nisa had stayed there until she went to university in London, even after her parents died. The Nisa who stood looking at the little brick house now had moved out when she was seven, after her father got a better job in Guildford.

The house was just as Nisa remembered it, except a little more aged. The soffits needed work and the plastic coating on the window frames needed to be touched up. Game-Nisa’s memories told her that the windows had been replaced in two-thousand-and-three, well before Real-Nisa could have seen them being swapped out. But then, at that age she would have been living in a slightly smaller house outside Guildford. The job had been better paying but Guildford had higher property values.

Over the back fence she could see the top of a rusted frame. She knew it was a swing, because her father had put it there for her when she was six. She could remember, with perfect clarity, falling off it and skinning her knees…

And that was the problem. As she went over memories she had of the house she had first lived in, she began to realise that all of them were from her game life. Whenever she looked back on something which had happened in this life and focussed on the details, she started noticing that they were wrong. The technology was wrong; the weather was not warm enough in summer, or wet enough. The news playing in the background as she played with a Barbie doll which had had its hair carefully shaved into a Mohican was twentieth-century news.

Her cross-links were all wrong. There were, as The System might have put it, inconsistencies in her database indexing.

Bloomsbury, November 28th.

‘You’ve been putting in a lot of work in The System room lately,’ Kellog said. It was obviously a question, and Nisa had had time to come up with an answer.

‘I came up with a way to stop the memories from the game fixing in the brain, I think. Or at least to make it easier to tell them from the real ones. I’ve been working with The System to see if we can get it to function.’

‘What’s the idea?’

‘It’s kind of like… a watermark. It’ll be something that sticks with you while you’re in there. You won’t notice it while you’re there, but when you come out you’ll be able to see it and you’ll know that that memory is from the game.’

‘That’s… genius. Can you make it work?’

‘Should know by Monday.’

Isle of Dogs.

It was after nine and they had not eaten. Nisa had made sure of her work and come home. And she had barely given Alaina time to say hello. They had made love on the sofa in the lounge and then gravitated to the bedroom, stopping off in the doorway when they could not quite give up the pleasure for that long.

They had showered after that, a simple activity which had taken almost an hour given that neither woman seemed capable of keeping her hands off the other. Alaina had become infected with Nisa’s urgency and did not need to understand it. That was good, because Nisa did not think she could lie about why she was doing it.

‘You’re crazy,’ Alaina said as Nisa cooked pasta. The sauce was coming from a packet. They both knew round two could only be held off for a limited time and they needed to eat fast. Given that Alaina had already poured the wine, and it was already being drunk, Nisa needed to hurry.

‘Uh-huh. Many have said so.’

‘Don’t know what’s got into you, don’t care. You’re crazy and I like it.’

‘I am really glad to hear you say that, because after dinner the strap-on is coming out and I’m going to fuck you six ways from Sunday.’

‘You say the most beautiful things.’

Nisa chuckled. ‘Pasta’s ready. Get the plates.’

Bloomsbury, November 29th.

The urge to stay one more day, just one, had been almost too much. But if she gave in to it there would always be another day, and another. So Nisa had left Alaina, exhausted and asleep, in their bed and made her way to the university.

The building was dark and silent at four in the morning, but Nisa had keys and knew her way around. She went to The System room and logged in, and began activating the programs she had been building all week.

Your course of action is dangerous, Nisa.

I’m aware of that, but it’s the only thing I can think of to do. I have three possibilities: the game world is the real one, this one is the real one, or neither are. If it’s the first, going back in the way I came out might put me back where I should be. If it’s the second, the watermarking will show in my memories when the others come in on Monday, realise I’ve done something stupid, and get me out.

And if it is the third?

God help me.

She finished typing, locked the display, and turned for the door. In the other room, the machine was waiting to take her back into Wonderland.

Part Seven: The Skin We’re In

Westminster, London, September 26th, 2014.

‘I think she’s coming around.’

Woman’s voice… Sandra?

‘The activity is definitely more or less gone. I think she is…’ That was Norbery.

Meow?

Nisa opened her eyes and looked up at the black furry face of Faline. Then she looked around to check she was not waking up at UCL. And then she said, ‘How long was I out?’

‘Almost five days,’ Norbery told her. ‘I’ll get Hanson and Kellog.’

‘What’s Faline doing here?’ Nisa asked when he had gone.

‘You were burning magic like it was Christmas,’ Sandra told her. ‘We couldn’t figure out what was going on, but you were somehow, subconsciously maybe, using magic to fight whatever happened to you. The Probrum was getting… kind of intense and Faline eats the stuff. Norbery went and got her the first night.’

Swallowing, Nisa reached up and stroked the cat’s head. The purring started and Nisa relaxed back against the pillows as the euphoria spread through her body. Beside her, Sandra sank onto a seat with a smile on her face.

‘It’s really hard to get any work done when she does that,’ Sandra said, her voice a little dreamy.

‘Tell me about it.’

‘And that will be quite enough of it, I think,’ Hanson said from the doorway. Faline immediately stopped purring, bolted off Nisa’s chest, and climbed under the sheets.

‘Have you been terrifying my cat, Boss?’ Nisa asked.

‘I told her that if she walked around my office naked again I would find her a nice, woollen suit to wear.’

Nisa felt the cat shudder beside her arm. ‘She actually let you see her human? You know she doesn’t usually trust people she doesn’t know to see her, right?’

‘I still haven’t,’ Kellog said as he walked in. ‘But I’m a big, scary man so perhaps that explains it. What the Hell have you been doing for the last week?’

‘Uh… there was a lot of sex.’ There was a meow from under the sheets. ‘I… I woke up in another world, in the future, and was told this world was a neural-interactive video game, which I helped create. I had a wife and most of you were there. Alexander Maxim was there. Anyway, I decided it wasn’t real and went back into the game.’

Sandra frowned. ‘So… how do you know this is real and not a game?’ she asked, slowly, as if trying to sort it out herself.

‘Honestly? I don’t, but if they pull me out again on Monday, the work I did in there should tell me you’re all fakes. The real question is, is any of it real? Or is this a game I created, but I’m stuck in here and I will eventually get out?’

‘I need a drink,’ Sandra said.

‘Try being me. So, what hit me?’

‘A Glitch,’ Hanson said.

‘But not of a type we’ve ever seen before,’ Norbery added.

‘All Glitches are a form of Daath energy,’ Kellog stated, ‘but they normally manifest themselves as something physical. Electrical energy is most common, but winds, rogue waves, unusually violent storms… This one was essentially just a distortion of reality, pure Daath. The alchemists were using it to alter their materials, hence the transformations in the victims. You were hit in the face by a concentrated burst of Daath magic. Why you didn’t just vanish entirely is an open question at this point.’

Nisa frowned. ‘Because it created an entire new reality and put me in it? Isn’t that what Da’at’s about?’

‘She does have a point,’ Norbery said, ‘but where did you learn that pronunciation? I don’t recall us ever mentioning it.’

‘Ah… Something that kept repeating on things when I was there. Daleth, Ayin, Taw. It was one of the things that made me think that world wasn’t real.’ The thought passed through her head that, again, she was not mentioning the black-suited figures.

‘And the Aramaic character names. Interesting. You spend a week in a manufactured reality and come back with accurate knowledge of the arcane.’

‘Yeah… Look, this is great, debriefing me while I’m naked in a hospital bed and all, but…’

‘Uh… quite. Well, you’re stuck here for another couple of days until your Probrum level drops. We can debrief you later. Not that you’re wearing… uh…’

‘I’ll get you a gown,’ Sandra said.

‘I can’t go home?’ Nisa asked.

‘This place is screened as a refuge,’ Kellog said, ‘in case one of us racks up too much Probrum. It should stop anything outside sensing the build-up…’

‘And in the last couple of days,’ Hanson said, ‘we have had two electrical fires, one of the servers has suffered a random short-circuit, and…’ She stopped and, to Nisa’s astonishment, actually blushed.

‘There was this random burst of wind ran through the whole place,’ Sandra said. ‘My dress was up around my armpits.’

Nisa glanced at Norbery and Kellog. Even the stoic detective looked like he was trying not to laugh, but then both men had likely been wearing trousers that day.

‘The point is,’ Hanson went on, ‘if you go outside, we’ll probably have every Bug and Glitch in London gravitating toward you. You, young lady, are grounded until you’re back to normal.’

~~~

Faline wriggled free of the blankets and hopped down to the floor. The cat had been under there for hours, it seemed. Nisa had felt unaccountably tired and had fallen asleep soon after the others had left. Now, it seemed, it was after dark because the cat was changing and looking a little uncomfortable about it.

It started as a flattening of her fur, as though invisible hands were smoothing it down over her body, but the strands of hair began to meld until Nisa was looking at more of a cat-shaped blob of black fluid. That began to grow, twisting out of shape as it went. Limbs expanded out of proportion, looking almost disjoined against a far smaller body. Then the body grew, the tail absorbing into it as it went, but leaving one leg shrunken until the Faline blob was almost full size and starting to change colour. The last thing to form properly was the face, the nose extending out and the eyes forming properly before she opened them and looked sheepishly up at Nisa.

‘These are not the circumstances under which I wanted you to see me doing that,’ Faline said, still something of a purr in her voice. She coughed. ‘Sometimes my throat doesn’t settle properly. That’s better, now move over.’

Nisa giggled and shunted over in the bed so that Faline could climb in beside her. It was a bit of a squeeze, but the Witch Cat was pretty compact.

‘I don’t know why you were worried about me seeing that. I wouldn’t say it’s pretty, but it wasn’t ugly either, and it’s kind of fascinating. I bet scientists would give their eye teeth to be able to study it.’

‘Well, they aren’t getting to study me. So you had a wife?’

‘Alaina Peters. She came to the flat?’

‘Yes, I remember your scent when she had gone.’

‘That obvious? When I was there I was rationalising my attraction to her here as being the result of her being my wife there.’

‘And now it’s the other way around?’

‘Sort of. It’s… Which delusion do I pick? Everyone here believes that we’re programs in a computer system. There they think they’re real, but I was in a simulation. And now I need to think that was a hallucination. If I explained all this to a psychiatrist, he’d have me sectioned.’

‘So you weren’t sure what was real, and now you’re really not sure?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Was I there?’

Nisa giggled. ‘Yes, but you were just a rather precocious cat.’

‘So you think. Maybe I just wasn’t changing shape around you and your sexy girlfriend.’

‘Huh. Smart Alec.’

September 30th.

Nisa had spent the day going over her experiences in the ‘other world,’ as they were calling it, with Kellog and Hanson. She had still not mentioned the people in the black suits, just mentioning a man with a placard and a woman who had handed back her wallet.

‘What about the drug ring?’ Nisa asked when the questioning was over.

‘We rounded them all up,’ Hanson told her. ‘The press have been told it was a crack production operation. That’s all fine, but…’ She shook her head. ‘Something isn’t right.’

‘We’re missing some backing,’ Kellog said. ‘None of the people we’ve picked up could have come up with the process they’re using, and capitalising it would have needed a lot of initial expenditure.’

‘You’re suggesting, in a very oblique way, that someone intended the users to change the way they did,’ Nisa said.

‘Norbery thinks they were experimenting,’ Hanson replied. ‘The exact results were not intended, but some sort of Daath-related effect transmitted through the irradiated components was. He thinks that the use of certain blood-based factors may have influenced the outcome, so it’s possible they were aiming for that result, but he thinks it was just bad luck.’

‘You said Da’at magic was forbidden,’ Nisa said, looking at Kellog.

‘It is, and if someone is experimenting with it we need to find out who and stop them.’

Nisa nodded. ‘You also said that Glitches were something to do with Da’at. Do you think someone could have figured out how to summon them? It might explain why this one was so strange.’

‘That particular possibility,’ Hanson said wearily, ‘is why I have bags under my eyes at the moment. You should be fit to leave here in a day or so, and then you two are going to be working full time on this case. We need this one solved, and fast.’

Tower Hamlets, October 1st.

Trina was standing on the corner of the car park when Nisa stepped out of Kellog’s car. Her attention turned to the unrequited love of her life, and the cat she was holding, and she peered in through the windscreen at Kellog, apparently trying not to glower. Nisa was more concerned about the state of Trina’s face.

‘What the Hell happened to you?’ Nisa asked as Kellog pulled away.

Trina’s hand rose to the livid bruise which covered the left side of her face. The skin around her eyes was swollen and purple. Her high cheekbone showed similar colouring.

‘Jilly,’ Trina replied.

Nisa frowned. She knew the name, even recalled meeting the girl once with Trina. ‘Jilly? She’s one of yours.’

‘Not since Tuesday night. She was damn smooth about it. She got a few other girls on her side and then made a play. I took her down, but… I don’t remember her being that tough before. I think I broke a couple of her ribs before she stayed on the floor. I’ve been hoping to catch you, actually. Might be some of the girls come at you to get to me. Watch yourself. Where’ve you been?’

‘Work outing,’ Nisa lied. ‘Conference thing in Manchester. Seriously boring, but it was on expenses.’

‘This is where my taxes are being spent?’ The gang leader managed a grin.

Nisa grinned back. ‘Oh yes. Been living in luxury in a budget hotel for the last week or so. You sure you’re okay?’

‘You should see the other girl.’

‘Huh. Look, I’d love to chat, but I’m tired. Catch you tomorrow.’

‘Sure. Just… Be careful, yeah? I don’t want you hurt because of me.’

Nisa smiled. ‘I’m tougher than I look, Trina. Don’t worry.’

~~~

‘You do not look tougher than you look,’ Faline commented as she walked into the lounge, dressed, and saw Nisa still moping on the couch.

Nisa sighed. ‘I miss Alaina. It’ll go. I still have too many memories from over there telling me I had this wife I loved.’

‘We could…’

‘I thought about it, but it’d feel like I was using you as a surrogate. I don’t think that’s fair.’ She looked up and grinned. ‘Besides, you’ll be climbing the walls next full moon and I should save my strength.’

Faline quickened her pace and curled up on the couch, pulling her knees under her chin. ‘Don’t remind me. It’s only a week away.’

‘You know, there’s no need to be embarrassed about it. I kind of like it. You get really crazy, lose control. You’re always so controlled so it’s kind of nice to see another side of you.’

‘Well… I’m glad you think so, but it’s not quite so nice for me. You’re right. I am controlled. I like to think I’m a lady, even if I’m a cat most of the time. At those times I’m just… just an animal in a human skin.’

Nisa gave her a playful punch in the shoulder. ‘You are magnificent, even when you’re being all animal. It’s just different. It’s… elemental. The passion and… and lust. It’s infectious. To me it is anyway. It’s like… God, I don’t know, but you were all embarrassed about it that first night, for about ten minutes, and once we got going you just let go. I wish I could let myself go like that.’

Faline managed a timid giggle. ‘Don’t be silly. You were so into it I could barely keep up. I think there’s something of the animal about you too.’

‘Rowr,’ Nisa replied, making clawing motions in the air. ‘I am Nisa, hear me roar.’

October 6th.

There were three of the gang standing around outside Leopold Tower when Nisa got back from work. It had been a couple of days of getting nowhere, slowly, and the three teenage delinquents were the last thing she needed to see. They were definitely younger members of the Queens. One looked to be just into her twenties, but the other two were teens. Nisa recognised none of them, but they seemed to know who she was.

‘It’s Trina’s bimbo,’ the oldest stated as Nisa walked toward the door.

The world slowed as Nisa closed the distance. She watched them moving, saw the way they shifted their stances. They had been waiting for her; it was not a chance meeting and now they were preparing to do what they had been sent to do. The oldest, the one who had spoken, would go first.

‘Trina’s not here to–’ She stopped, surprised, as Nisa quickened her pace. Her right arm came up to swing at Nisa’s face, but the timing was all wrong, and the delivery lacked force, and Nisa caught the extended limb, locked it, and twisted. ‘Fuck! What the fuck?!’ There was a shriek as Nisa twisted harder and pushed down.

‘If your two friends don’t back up now,’ Nisa said, ‘I am going to snap your arm like a twig.’

‘We ain’t afraid of–’

‘I am just about to book you for assaulting a police officer. Afraid of that?’

‘There is no way you’re a cop, you–’ The speaker, one of the two teens, stopped as Nisa flicked open her warrant card holder.

‘Now get lost before I change my mind.’ Nisa watched the two teens scamper away before looking down at her hostage. ‘I assume Jilly put you up to this? Tell her to leave me alone, or I’ll find an excuse to bust her for something. You better believe I can do it too.’ Stepping around the woman, Nisa moved past before letting go.

It was not until Nisa was walking in through the door of her apartment that her knees tried to buckle under her.

~~~

‘This is exactly the kind of thing I was worried about when Trina decided she liked me,’ Nisa grumbled. She was sitting on the couch with Faline, in human form, curled beside her. Both of them had wine glasses, though Faline’s was barely touched and sitting on the floor beside the couch, while Nisa’s was half empty, and Nisa was playing with the coin again.

‘They did not hurt you,’ Faline said, ‘and you sent them a message. They will not try to get at Trina through you a second time.’

‘Maybe. It’s weird, something doesn’t feel right. It’s like…’

‘An odd feeling of tension?’

‘Uh… yeah. I do feel kind of tense.’

‘It’s only a few days until the full moon. I’m feeling tense.’

Nisa blinked and then grinned at her cat. ‘I suppose it could be that. We could try easing the pressure.’

‘No. I want it to all come out at once. I don’t think I’ve been looking forward to it like this… since I can remember.’

‘You were all “it’s not so nice for me” a few days ago.’

‘I was, but since then it’s been getting closer, I’ve been feeling it… A-and I’ve been remembering what it was like last time. I don’t feel like feeling so needy is quite such a bad thing. Maybe it’s just that I haven’t had such a good partner for a while.’

‘Huh. Well, I hope I’m going to live up to expectations.’

Faline looked up at her and smiled. ‘As long as you just let yourself go, you will do.’

Westminster, October 7th.

There was no sign of any of the Queens, or whatever Jilly was calling her cronies, around the flats as Nisa left for work in the morning, but there was a distinct sensation of being watched, which Nisa did not enjoy. The feeling vanished as she got on the train, but then she got to work and it was downhill again.

‘Lisa Anne May,’ Kellog said as she passed his office door, ‘remember her?’

‘The writer?’

‘The same. Her husband reported her missing last night.’

‘So…’

‘Uniforms are canvassing the area. We’ll leave it to the regular force to handle things for now, but keep an eye on the reports they file.’

‘Right. Do you think it’s worth looking around the area? Just… see if there’s anything to see?’

Kellog peered at her. ‘Be my guest. Let me know if you do.’

‘Not coming with me?’

‘I don’t think it’s dangerous, and you need to be able to work alone.’ He sagged a little. ‘Also, I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on.’

‘I’ll try not to enjoy the fresh air too much,’ Nisa replied.

Hammersmith.

There was a weird feeling of wrongness about Hammersmith Grove as soon as Nisa walked onto the street. The odd thing about it was that, somehow, in some way she could not quite put her finger on, it felt like the alternative reality she had been in after the Glitch had hit her. Well, like that had felt after the men and women in black suits had started dropping hints. It was sort of like being somewhere you knew you should leave, even though it seemed perfectly normal to be there.

Frowning at the odd feeling, she focussed herself on that and began trying to draw in power for a spell. It kept slipping from her for several seconds until it seemed that she had found the local weirdness in the world around her, and then it flowed in freely, but when she did cast her mind out into the surrounding area, it felt as though someone had sucked all the life out of her muscles. She staggered, stumbling against a fence, and almost lost the spell, but then she pulled herself up and walked down the street toward the Mays’ house.

It was not until she was in front of the neighbouring building that she felt something. It was there, nothing really strong, but there was definitely something wrong around the front of Lisa May’s home. As Nisa walked closer, the spell let her feel more, and she somehow wished it did not. There was definitely a taint of Unreality about the house. She could feel it well into the building.

Stopping, she looked up at the home Lisa had made her own and focussed on it, trying her best to draw in the strange feeling of non-existence that seemed to be sitting over it. She closed her eyes, and an image leapt out at her, just a flash on the insides of her eyelids, a flash of bright white light which meant little until the shock of it made her open her eyes and she saw the negative image superimposed on her vision.

Hovering in front of her, wherever she looked, was the shadow of a man.

Westminster.

‘You’re quite sure about this?’ Kellog asked. It was the third time and Nisa was getting a little irritated, but then, her partner was looking distracted and worried…

‘I got Norbery to take me down to the vault and I cast the same spell on the shadow residue down there,’ she said, varying the reply a little. ‘I got the same image from that. I don’t know why I didn’t notice it before…’

‘Ah well, there I could suggest something. Frank, you noticed her sudden acquaintance with Daath as well?’

Norbery nodded. ‘You were trapped in some sort of manufactured, unreal reality… Well, to our minds it was unreal, but I suppose–’

‘You are really best to not go down that road,’ Nisa advised. ‘I’ve been there and it’s got “hazardous bends” signs all the way down to the cliff edge.’

‘You were trapped in a hallucination caused by a huge surge of Daath energy,’ Norbery said, giving Nisa a look which said that it was a simplification and he knew it, ‘and you emerged with a remarkable insight into that esoteric sphere.’

‘Your experience of it may have attuned you to it,’ Kellog went on. ‘So you’re noticing things about it which you did not before, and we would not anyway.’

‘Okay,’ Nisa said, nodding slowly. ‘Makes sense and suggests I didn’t just get the spell wrong. It seemed like there were traces of them all over, but they had really burned themselves into that house, recently. I figure they went in and took Lisa out of there, somehow.’ She saw Norbery’s face darken. ‘What?’

‘If they are using Daath, then they may have unmade her. She would be gone. Gone into… nothing.’

Nisa shook her head. ‘I don’t believe that’s what they did. I don’t think what I was feeling was a spell powerful enough to vanish her. And my understanding is that using Da’at like that would remove even the memory of her from existence. I think it was just the number of them and them being active. I mean really active instead of just watching.’

‘Which begs the question of what a bunch of shadowy men, possibly System Agents, want with a magazine article writer?’ Kellog said.

‘I don’t think these things are that kind of shadowy figure.’ Nisa knew she was saying it because of the warning the Men in Black had given her, but she still found herself avoiding mentioning that fact. ‘I think they’re something else. I think they’re something that shouldn’t exist and that’s why they stink of Da’at.’

‘Then what would something which shouldn’t exist want with Mrs May?’

‘I have absolutely no idea.’

Tower Hamlets, October 8th.

Faline was off her food and exceptionally tactile about saying hello as soon as Nisa walked into the flat. Of course, Nisa knew why, and her own stomach was not in the mood for a lot of food either. They were both waiting for the sky to darken and the tension was obvious.

Having eaten a slice of toast and poured two glasses of wine, Nisa gave up trying to eat more for the time being as the sun set around six-thirty. Faline was looking restive, but not changing yet, so Nisa went to her bedroom and stripped. And then she padded back out into the lounge and curled onto the couch while her cat sat on the rug in the middle of the floor and watched her with a most un-cat-like look of… Actually, no, it was a cat expression, but twisted: Faline was looking at Nisa the way cats watched birds in trees. There was going to come a time, real soon now, when she could pounce… Nisa swallowed and felt her nipples hardening and knew that Faline could probably smell her getting wet.

And then, as the light dimmed outside, Faline began to change. She did not slink away to hide this time. It was almost as though she wanted Nisa to see it all and that that would somehow make this all seem more intense. And it did. Nisa watched as the cat-shape flowed and distorted, as the limbs rearranged themselves and Faline’s features rearranged their form into their pixie-like, human shape.

But when the transformation was complete tonight there was still the same hungry, waiting, animal look in the woman’s eyes, and Faline prowled across the floor toward Nisa. For a brief instant Nisa was actually afraid; she was looking into the eyes of a woman so lost in the animal part of herself that Nisa wondered whether she was going to survive the night.

And then Faline’s hot hands touched her thighs and Nisa, too, was lost in the moment.

~~~

Trina watched the sun going down with an odd feeling of dread. She had spent the last week worrying over Jilly, who should have been in a hospital, but should certainly be no threat currently, and yet there was something about the whole business…

She was walking back toward her turf from Limehouse, cutting the corner across from Agnes Street to Burdett Road. It saved several hundred yards compared to going all the way up Agnes Street, though as the sky got darker it seemed less of a good idea. She was under trees here, not many and not thick, but the shadows were deeper and seemed to move on their own. Maybe this had been a bad idea, but why the Hell was she getting so damn nervous? Jilly was just a girl like any of the other ones Trina had taken down in her time. Right?

Something moved on Trina’s right and she turned quickly, dropping into a ready stance. She saw Jilly’s unmarked, smiling face as she stepped into what light there was. ‘Jilly…’

‘Kind of,’ Jilly replied.

‘I beat you… Why aren’t you black and blue? I know I broke ribs.’

‘Yeah… that hurt, but I learned my lesson.’

Trina stepped back and straightened up. ‘You’re asking for a truce?’

Jilly stepped forward quickly, her right arm extending from behind her back to jab a stun rod into Trina’s ribs. Trina jerked as several tens of thousands of volts turned her nervous system into electric chaos, and then she fell to the floor, twitching. ‘No. I learned that if you want to get ahead in life, you have to cheat like a bitch.’

~~~

An hour after sunset, Faline seemed to be in seventh heaven or a near approximation thereof. The strap-on was a big hit and the Witch Cat was lying with her face pressed into the back of the sofa and her butt stuck up in the air, utterly lost in the sensation of Nisa ramming the thick, rubber phallus in and out of her friend.

Faline had been quite insistent at first, apparently wanting very much to be between Nisa’s thighs, even though the cat was the one in heat. Knowing they would likely be at it for hours, Nisa had just gone with it, but when Faline had got her off and was mewling for release herself, Nisa had got up and gone to the bedroom, and returned wearing the harness and dildo. Faline’s eyes had gone as wide as saucers. Nisa was going to have to call a break soon, because her thighs were feeling the strain and she needed more food now that the initial heat was over.

It seemed that Faline was feeling the strain too since, when the final shudders of her next orgasm were dying, she turned her face to Nisa. ‘Enough… Enough, please… I don’t think I can do… that again.’ Which had to be treated accordingly, even if Nisa was in agreement. She grabbed Faline’s hips and pulled as she sat back on her haunches. Faline let out a squeak as she was impaled further while sitting in Nisa’s lap. ‘Please, love! I-if I come again, I’ll b-be useless for hours.’

Nisa giggled, snuggling her nose against Faline’s neck. ‘“Love,” huh?’

‘I-it was a slip of the tongue,’ Faline replied, her cheeks heating. She was squirming, a fish caught on a hook she was unwilling to slip free of.

‘I don’t mind,’ Nisa told her. ‘I quite like it. I’m getting tired too. We should eat something if we’re going to go again later.’

‘We should, and we will. I am more comfortable in my skin now, but I want more of you. I have not tasted you enough tonight, and I wish you to force more of this fiendish toy upon me before morning comes.’

‘I am going to be a wreck at work tomorrow, aren’t I?’

‘I believe they are aware of the issues associated with my kind, and are also aware that the benefits outweigh them. But I will try to ensure that you have some sleep.’

Grinning, Nisa allowed the cat-woman up from her lap, and then followed her toward the kitchen. ‘Some sleep?’

‘Indeed.’ It was Faline’s turn to giggle. ‘I may have to wake you for a last quickie before the sun comes up though. Perhaps you could go in a little late?’

Westminster, October 9th.

‘Full moon?’ Sandra asked as Nisa passed her in the corridor.

‘Yeah,’ Nisa mumbled, hiding behind her sunglasses. She has considered using make-up to hide the dark rings, but the glasses had been easier.

‘Frank has some very good herbal pick-me-ups.’

‘I’ll remember to ask about them.’ Nisa walked on to her office, unlocking the door and heading in. She was unsure how much work she was going to really get done and had considered calling in sick, though she would have explained that she had come down with Faline-induced exhaustion. Well, she thought it was a reasonable malady in their line of work.

Kellog appeared in the door of her office, looked at her slumped in her office chair for a second, and then said, ‘Full moon last night, right? You probably should’ve stayed home and slept it off.’

‘Thanks. I’ll remember that next time.’

‘Since you’re in, let’s get some coffee. Norbery says the results of that facial reconstruction are in.’

‘Facial reconstruction… right… be right there…’

‘Full moon last night?’ Hanson asked as she walked past Kellog in the corridor.

‘Uh-huh,’ he replied.

‘Next time take the day off after,’ Hanson called out as she walked on, apparently entirely unbothered.

‘Does everyone know I’m banging my cat?’ Nisa grumbled as she made it to the door.

‘Everyone knows how Witch Cats are every quarter,’ Kellog replied as he started for the break room. ‘Everyone knows Faline is a Witch Cat because she was here to help bring your Probrum down. And we know you’re not averse to female sexual partners, because we did a background check.’

Nisa grumbled something about fascist, Big Brother police states which Kellog ignored, and then they walked into the break room to find Norbery staring at a computer tablet. He looked up at them, opened his mouth, and Nisa said, ‘Yes, it was a full moon last night and I didn’t get much sleep.’

‘Thought that might be the case,’ the witch said, pushing a mug of coffee across the table. ‘I put something in this to get your brain firing, but you need to make up the rest. Faline won’t help, because she’ll be… excited for another day at least, but make sure she lets you rest at the weekend.’

Nisa sagged into a chair. ‘She’ll be better tonight. A bit. I mean, she was last time.’

‘Drink your coffee. We got this back from Manchester.’ He turned the tablet around and showed them what seemed to be a computer-drawn image of a human face. A girl, around Nisa’s age or a little younger. ‘They made her a blonde with blue eyes, but we don’t know that.’

Nisa peered at the image, frowning. It kept going out of focus, so she drank some coffee and kept glaring at it. There was something about it. ‘I’m sure I know her…’

‘It’s quite possible you’ve seen her around your area,’ Kellog replied. ‘The Skinwalker wouldn’t have gone far for a first human victim.’

Nisa nodded and took another gulp of coffee. It had a slightly odd flavour, like cinnamon or something had been added. Maybe that was one of Norbery’s special ingredients. Now all she needed was for it to work and kick her brain out of neutral and… Her eyes widened. ‘Oh fuck, that’s Jilly.’

‘Jilly?’

‘I don’t know her full name. She’s one of the Queens. Or she was.’

‘She’s gone missing?’

‘No. She made a play for leadership of the gang. Trina beat her off, but if she’s a Skinwalker…’

‘Then she’ll be back. We need to find her. Can you get in touch with this Trina? That’s Katrina Norris, yes? She was on your known associates list.’

‘And we’re back to Big Brother. I don’t have a number for her, but I know where she lives.’

‘All right, we’ll take my car.’

Tower Hamlets.

Trina opened her eyes, but there was still nothing but darkness. That and the pain in her arms. She had been strung up by her wrists, blindfolded, and there was something stuffed into her mouth which seemed to be firmly tied in place. Her toes just about touched the floor and pushing up on them to relieve the strain on her arms also resulted in the sound of movement nearby.

‘You’re awake. Good.’ Jilly’s voice, but not. There was something wrong about it. Something… not quite natural. ‘I didn’t want to start while you were unconscious.’

Start what? What the Hell was the blonde bitch planning to do?

‘You’re wondering what I’m going to do with you, obviously. I’m not going to tell you. I want it to be a surprise. Well… I want the individual experiences to be a surprise. I’m still learning, but I think I’m getting better. I think… I think you’ll be able to savour the experience almost as much as I do.’

This was not Jilly. Trina was sure of that now. There was something about the way she talked, something unnatural. And Trina was quite sure she had known Jilly as well as anyone, and she had not been a serial killer. And whoever this was, she was talking like a serial killer. And that was when Trina knew she was going to die.

‘I am going to let you in on one thing,’ Jilly went on. ‘I don’t see any point in holding that back. I’m going to kill you. You’re going to die a horrible death and then I’m going to skin you. But don’t worry, by the time you die you’ll wish it had happened hours before.’

Trina swallowed. Her throat was dry. She absolutely believed that this woman, this not-Jilly, was going to do just as she said.

‘Let’s get started, shall we?’

Trina felt her T-shirt being pulled taut and heard fabric being cut, and she wondered how long she had left to live.

~~~

Trina was not answering the buzzer for her flat, and finding her number had just got them voice mail, but Nisa had had the bright idea of stopping by her flat on the way to Trina’s. Despite the fact that Witch Cats needed far less sleep than humans, Faline was distinctly grumpy about being dragged out of the flat where she had been happily making up lost sleep which she had not, in fact, lost.

However, after Nisa had explained the situation, the little black cat had padded quietly off into Trina’s building, oblivious to little things like solid matter which would have been more difficult for the two humans to negotiate.

‘Jill Meers,’ Kellog said as they waited in his car. ‘Hanson checked through the records and found a list of known members of the Queens. Jill Meers is on it.’

‘Could be her,’ Nisa replied. ‘They always just get introduced as “Jilly” or “Sal.” It was six weeks before Trina told me her full name and she was trying to get me in bed.’

‘Huh.’ There was a pause and then, ‘You know if we find her and not the Skinwalker…’

‘Yeah… Is there some kind of test we can do?’

‘Yes, but you have to be ready to lose your friend.’

‘If it comes to that, I’ll have lost her already. We’ll be eliminating a monster walking around in her skin. What’s the procedure?’

‘Usually? Shoot the damn thing until it stops moving and then incinerate the corpse with magic. Has to be magic. Only magic can finish them. Well, you can dissolve them in acid, but that’s usually harder to arrange.’

‘Which makes them a real annoyance to all of us,’ Faline announced from the back seat. Nisa twisted around and looked back, and it took Kellog a second or two to realise why she was doing it. ‘She is not in the flat,’ the cat went on into Nisa’s mind. ‘Her bed has not been slept in and I could see no evidence that she was home at all last night.’

‘Shit!’ Nisa snapped aloud. ‘Thanks, Faline. She says it doesn’t look like Trina got home last night.’

‘Which probably means it has her, but it doesn’t mean she’s dead.’

‘Just being killed, slowly and painfully. Where?!’

Kellog grabbed his seat belt and started buckling in. ‘Hold on to something, Faline. I know where to start looking at least.’

~~~

Jilly, or whatever had taken her place, liked needles and seemed to have an instinct for where to put them to send searing pain through Trina’s body. The ones jammed through her nipples had been more or less expected and, truth be told, had more or less stopped hurting now. The thick ones that were rammed into joints… Those ones had Trina screaming into her gag every time.

It would often take a couple of tries to hit just the right spot, and that was somehow worse as when the needle was pushed slowly in, there would be the sharp stab as it entered and then the dull agony of it pushing through flesh. Then it would stop against bone and there would be an irritated grunt from Jilly and the needle would be yanked out, and there would be another stab. And then it would hit something instead of bone. A nerve? Fire would rip up through Trina’s body and she would be left jerking in her bonds while Jilly found another needle and selected a new spot.

And then it stopped. The pain from the needle that had gone into the back of her right knee was still lancing up her thigh and Trina did not notice for a minute that Jilly seemed to have wandered off. Then the blindfold was pulled off her head.

Jilly was not smiling. Straight-faced, she stood there and looked at Trina, almost as though she was trying to judge something in her expression. She was naked from the waist up. Blood streaked her skin in places, and smudges of the same showed on the worn denim jeans she was wearing. She was holding a large, nasty-looking hunting knife in her right hand, though it hung at her side almost as if forgotten.

‘I… didn’t ask to be like this,’ Jilly said. If she expected an answer she was not going to get one. Maybe answering was unnecessary anyway since her eyes were drifting away from Trina’s. ‘I mean it kind of just started and got out of control… and then there was… I mean, how do you get around being able to…’ Her eyes flicked up again, sparks of fire showing in the back of them. ‘I figured I was crazy. No one can do this shit. Stealing skins? That’s like Clive Barker crazy shit, right? That’s Stephen King, Pet Cemetery or something. Nuts. Then I killed Jill and… I’m getting way better at the skinning though. I had some practice.’ She looked away again and then wandered off, stepping out of Trina’s line of sight.

The room they were in… It looked like the front room of a house, though it was a little hard to tell. Someone, presumably Jilly, had tacked blankets over the windows and the only light came from a single table lamp on the floor near Trina’s feet. There was a sofa off on her left though and the decoration looked suburban, kind of bland for a girl who ran with a street gang. Trina tried to focus through the pain: had Jilly still been living with her parents?

‘I haven’t decided how to kill you yet.’ The voice was behind Trina’s back, not moving. ‘I could make it fairly quick and painless. I could pinch your nose shut and you’ll suffocate in a minute or two. Books say that’s not a bad way to go. I’ve been wondering, though, how many needles I can get into the base of your skull before I hit something vital.’ Trina almost flinched as she felt something touch her neck, a sharp point which slid up under her hair. ‘I might paralyse you before I kill you though…’ The pressure increased. ‘Maybe I’ll try a couple of these and then the other.’

~~~

The house looked like all the other ones on Carbis Road: not especially old, terraced with a paved area for parking off the street out front. The large Ford sedan parked outside it barely fitted, the boot jutting out over the pavement. It all looked normal, but there was something not quite right and it took Nisa a second to figure out what it was.

‘The curtains are drawn.’ She craned her neck to peer up at the two windows on the upper floor. ‘All the curtains are closed.’

‘Looks like more than that to me,’ Kellog said. ‘It looks to be heavier than just curtains.’

There was a sound from the back seat, a shuffle and a bit of a hiss, and Nisa turned to see Faline’s tail vanishing through the door. ‘Faline… Damn, she’s gone looking.’

‘That might be easier than us trying to look inside,’ Kellog replied. He reached into his jacket and produced his gun, checking the magazine.

Nisa swallowed and reached for her bag to get her own pistol. And then she heard the voice in her head. ‘Hurry!’

‘Shit, she’s in there!’ Grabbing her bag, she fumbled for the door handle and tried to force her way out even before the door had opened.

Kellog was more composed, swinging the door open as he began the process of summoning energy for a spell. He stepped out of the car and was on his feet before Nisa had the door open on her side, and he was stepping up to the door of the house as she struggled around the car and fumbled her gun out of her bag. Maybe the little zip-up pocket had not been such a great idea. And the house door opened as soon as he put his hand on it, which meant she knew what the spell was he had been working as he moved, and she knew what spell she should probably prepare herself.

Kellog pushed in, leading with his pistol through the small porch and into a dimly lit room with a sofa and tacky, mock-flock wallpaper, and Trina strung up by her wrists from a hook in the ceiling. Nisa felt her muscles tense at the sight of her friend and would-be lover hanging there. There were thick needles through her nipples, more metal sticking randomly out of joints and various areas of flesh. And there was no sign of Faline or the Skinwalker, but Trina was flicking her head rapidly toward the back of the house, behind her. There was a clattering sound from upstairs which seemed to indicate where their target was.

‘Wait here,’ Kellog said quietly. ‘If it comes out past me, shoot it.’

‘Right.’ Nisa looked up at Trina, hanging there naked and bloody. She really did not want the conversation that this was likely to result in, but Trina had been dumped into the weird world of London now…

Kellog moved forward, pushing open a door at the back of the little lounge. Nisa guessed that this would lead into a kitchen, or onto a hallway with stairs and a door into a kitchen. There had to be stairs back there somewhere, and why the Hell had Faline led the thing upstairs anyway? And the answer to that came as Faline dropped through the ceiling right in front of Nisa, falling gently to the floor with a serenity that belied the look of fear in the cat’s eyes.

‘She’ll come right after me,’ Faline’s voice said in Nisa’s head. ‘Down the stairs behind me.’

Nisa looked up at the back of her partner. ‘Kellog, she–’ Kellog’s huge gun fired three times and then there was a crashing sound which Nisa fervently hoped was the sound of the Skinwalker falling down the stairs, but somehow she did not really believe that, and when the Hell had she started building the fireball in her hand? And the door was yanked open right then and Nisa saw a female shape silhouetted against the light from the door at the back of the corridor and she threw the bolt she was holding right into Jilly’s chest without even thinking about what she was doing.

There was a scream, and Jilly-Skinwalker tumbled backward, collapsing onto the floor beside where Kellog was pulling himself upright. Nisa figured the thing must have hit him from the stairs and then tried to run past. Advancing, Nisa lifted her pistol and made sure the safety was off, and began firing into the still moving body even as the scent of burned flesh assaulted her nose. And then Kellog was firing as well. They both emptied their clips and reloaded, and kept firing. Kellog unloaded another seven rounds from the big IMI and then began summoning up a fire spell as Nisa kept shooting…

And then there was silence and the stink of burning, rotten flesh.

Westminster, October 10th.

‘Your Mister Norbery is some sort of miracle worker,’ Trina said. She was still sounding like she had spent the last week screaming, but she was looking better now than she had when they had got her down from the ceiling of Jill Meers’ house. ‘I mean, I don’t know what he gave me, but I slept like a baby and I think I should be hurting more than I am.’

Nisa nodded. ‘He’s… good with herbs and medicines.’ Nisa was still waiting to find out exactly what she could tell Trina, but overtly lying to her seemed stupid.

‘Yeah… And I was thinking of getting my nipples pierced anyway.’

Forced humour, the fall-back of difficult situations the world over. ‘They’ll heal up quickly if you don’t put something through the holes. And Norbery says the other wounds should heal nicely. Your wrists may take a bit longer, but he doesn’t think there’ll be any permanent damage.’

‘Just to my brain then. Of course, that could have been worse if your cat hadn’t walked through the wall and scared Jilly.’

‘Uh… yeah…’

‘And then I am trying not to think too hard about you throwing a fireball, because that’s impossible too. Is there a stick with a flashing red light I have to look at?’

‘Honestly? I don’t know. They never gave me that option. Look, don’t worry about it now, okay? Get better and, um…’

‘We’ll see what happens?’

Nisa nodded, smiling. ‘Yeah.’

‘Right. But I’m not nuts, right? Jilly… She wasn’t Jilly? She was something else?’

‘You’re not nuts,’ Nisa replied, turning for the door, ‘but forgetting you saw any of it might be better for your sanity.’

Hanson was standing outside, watching through the observation window. Nisa turned to stand beside her, watching as Trina settled back in bed and closed her eyes.

‘So what does happen to her?’ Nisa asked.

‘That depends upon Miss Norris. If she’s willing to be reasonable and the experience has not done real psychological damage, we let her go and she carries on as before. There are ways to eliminate her memories of the event if there are problems, but they are magical and subject to the usual problems, and we prefer to avoid them if we can.’

‘And Jilly? Have we got a cover story sorted out for her?’

‘Oh yes, the Skinwalker provided a complete one in a way. It killed her parents to get the house.’ Which they had discovered when they went upstairs to find the skinned corpses tucked up in bed together. Nisa had almost lost her breakfast at that one. ‘So Jill Meers was a serial killer in the making who self-immolated rather than being caught. We’ll tell Miss Norris the story and see if she’s willing to go along with it.’

‘I think she will. Right now, I think she’s trying to work out whether to pretend none of it happened or work out a way to make sense of it.’

Hanson barked a short laugh. ‘If she manages to do that last one, would you get her to explain it to me. Most of the time this stuff makes no sense at all.’

Part Eight: When Everything Changes

Tower Hamlets, London, October 17th, 2014.

Trina was not looking her best as she waited for Nisa outside Leopold Tower on a slightly damp evening in October. Physically she was fine: she had made a full recovery, Norbery had been happy with her, Sandra had been happy with her, and she seemed fit to Nisa. Mentally… Hanson had been happy to let her go because she seemed quite content with the idea of forgetting that any of what had happened with Jilly had ever occurred. Nisa, who knew Trina better than her boss, was not quite so sure, but she was also quite sure that Trina was not going to say anything about it to anyone.

Nisa had not seen the tall blonde for a few days now. There were, she imagined, things to be done about the Leopold Queens and Jilly’s effect on them. Now, as Nisa walked across the car park and saw Trina standing there, she knew her friend needed to talk. The sun was already down – paperwork had kept Nisa bogged down at the office – and Trina looked grey in the dimming, autumn light. As Nisa approached, Trina mustered a smile and opened her mouth, but Nisa just held up a hand. ‘You’d better come upstairs.’

‘Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that?’ Trina asked as Nisa unlocked the door and ushered her friend in.

‘Yeah, of course. Let me check the junk mail.’ Nisa’s key unlocked the little box where her mail was dropped while Trina stood there fidgeting. Nisa could not recall ever seeing her fidget before, and she had not been doing it outside where anyone else could see. There was, indeed, junk in the box, but also a rather official-looking letter in one of those posh, textured envelopes. Nisa looked at it, saw the crest on it – shield, flame, twin dragons – and decided that it could wait.

‘That doesn’t look like junk, unless it’s some sort of expensive dining club,’ Trina commented as she saw Nisa frowning at the envelope.

‘That’s… almost accurate. It’s a work thing, and it’s Friday.’ She started for the lift at the back of the lobby. ‘Work is not my first concern until Monday.’

‘Well… I was kind of hoping to talk about your work.’

‘No, you want to talk about what happened to you, and you want a friend to talk about it to, and it just so happens that I’m about the only person who isn’t going to have you committed when they hear the story. This…’ She waved the envelope with its carefully hand-written address and intricate coat of arms embossed into the surface, trying for a second to describe what it meant. ‘This is office politics.’ Actually, she had no idea why the Hermetic Order of the Eternal Flame was sending her letters, but she was not going to worry about it until she had Trina sorted out.

‘I guess I can see the difference.’

‘Good.’ Nisa stepped out of the lift as soon as the doors opened, walked down to her door, unlocked it, and spoke as she pushed the door open. ‘You remember Faline, right?’ It was a warning to the Witch Cat as much as anything: we have a guest.

‘The cat? The one I’d swear ran through a wall and somehow saved my butt?’

‘Uh, yeah. That’d be her. I was more hoping for “the one I met in the park,” but that’s Faline. She can be a little shy of strangers.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Trina said as she walked in to see the black cat peering at her from the arm of the sofa, ‘she looks really nervous. I seem to recall her vetoing my idea of sleeping at the foot of your bed in a cat tail and ears.’ There was a prrt sound from Faline.

‘Maybe she’s defending me from your dishonourable intentions then.’ Another prrt. ‘Sit down. She doesn’t bite. Or she’s never bitten me.’ Which was not entirely true, but Nisa was not planning on going into the circumstances in which Faline had bitten her. ‘Trina needs someone to talk to, Faline,’ Nisa said, trying to sound like talking to a cat was perfectly normal, which it was for quite a lot of cat owners, she guessed.

Trina sat, looking a little uncomfortable, especially when Faline bounced into her lap. ‘I’m not really that much of a cat person,’ Trina said as Faline circled and then settled.

Nisa heard the purring start as she went to the kitchen to fill two glasses of wine. ‘Faline has a way of growing on you.’ And, sure enough, by the time Nisa was walking back into the lounge, Trina was stroking the cat between her ears and lying on the sofa like a limp rag. The purring faded as Nisa walked back in, which was good because there would have been two limp rags otherwise. Nisa waited for the glaze to start fading in Trina’s eyes and then held out a glass of red wine. ‘How are you holding up?’

‘I… I don’t know, exactly. You know? I keep having these weird nightmares.’

‘I know all about weird nightmares.’

‘I keep seeing Jilly, standing there holding a knife, and I’m tied up, hanging from a butcher’s hook.’

‘Sounds pretty much like I’d expect, considering.’

‘Yeah, but then she takes the knife and splits her own face open instead of mine… A-and then she kisses me, all lipless… And then…’

‘There’s the waking up screaming part?’

‘Yeah. You’ve done that too I guess.’

‘Once or twice, especially recently. No one told you what… Uh, no one said what had happened to Jilly to make her come after you?’

‘That scary boss of yours, Hanson, she said I’d be better off not knowing, but if I needed to know I should talk to you about it. I’m still not sure I need to know, or want to know, but I need to talk about it. I don’t think anyone said anything specific. Just that something had taken her place.’

‘Huh.’ Nisa frowned. The nightmare seemed too specific for it to be random fear, but if no one had said anything to her… Nisa’s gaze flicked to the window and then to the cat in Trina’s lap. ‘It’s dark, Faline. I could really use your help.’ Affronted prrt! ‘Trina’s not going to hurt you, and she’s not going to give you away to anyone. She owes you her life, right?’

Trina was looking perplexed, but she said, ‘I do. I don’t know exactly how I do, but I’m sure I saw you doing stuff normal cats don’t do, and I’m saying nothing about any of this to anyone.’

‘Please,’ Nisa added. With a grumbled mrowl of complaint, Faline hopped down from Trina’s lap and padded off to the bedroom.

‘She doesn’t sound happy about whatever you want.’

‘I said she’s shy. Faline’s a Witch Cat and she’s been around quite a while so she knows a lot about all the weird shit going on out there. And I think it’d be good for you to see that some of the weird shit doesn’t want to skin you.’

‘Jilly said that. She said she was going to skin me.’

‘She… it wasn’t exactly Jilly. We call them “Bugs,” but Faline doesn’t like the classification and I can’t say I blame her. Jilly was a… Well, the name’s not really important, but they can steal another person’s shape, by taking their skin.’

‘A-and Faline’s like that?!’

‘I am something else,’ Faline said from the doorway to the bedroom. Nisa looked around to check that she had remembered to put clothes on. ‘I am a Witch Cat, and while I can take a different form at times, I do not need to steal it from someone else.’

Trina’s eyes were wide. ‘Oh… wow.’

‘Yeah,’ Nisa said, grinning, ‘it was a bit of a surprise for me when I first saw her like that. You are one of very few people to see her human form.’

‘I admit,’ Faline said, walking around and settling into the space between Nisa and Trina, ‘that I have some sympathy for someone a Skinwalker has taken an interest in. They are creatures out of a nightmare at the best of times.’

‘Skinwalker,’ Trina said, almost tasting the word. ‘So… something that walks in another skin. A shapeshifter. Last month I’d have said those were myths. Werewolves. That’s Hammer Horror territory.’

‘Werewolves,’ Faline said, ‘are quite different, and often magicians.’

‘Or magical curses,’ Nisa added. ‘Which is pretty Hammer, thinking about it. There’s a whole ecology of weird and wonderful creatures. Not all of them are bad, like Faline for example.’

‘Most of them are rather more inimical to humans than my kind,’ Faline pointed out, ‘or have learned to dislike them. Fairies and a number of nature spirits have a justifiable dislike of the mess humans have made of things. Most of us are simply trying to get by, but our… nutritional requirements can have unfortunate side effects.’

‘That gangland hit I was involved in?’ Nisa said. ‘That was a cover-up. I was attacked by an incubus, but that was kind of my fault because I’d been using magic too much.’

‘You’re really a witch?’ Trina asked.

‘Nope. Norbery’s the witch. I’m a reality hacker. Everyone has their own way of doing it. Norbery calls them paradigms.’

‘Right. What kind of magic does Hanson do?’

‘The most terrible kind. She wields the awesome power of administration. Hanson’s a real policewoman, a normal woman.’

‘I am quite convinced that she possesses demonic powers,’ Faline said. ‘She threatened to make me wear wool!’

‘Faline doesn’t really like clothes,’ Nisa said, grinning.

‘I kind of guessed,’ Trina replied. ‘Could those shorts be any smaller?’

‘I have never understood the human desire to wrap themselves in bits of cloth,’ Faline replied. ‘If you need the warmth, you shouldn’t have evolved your fur away. That is really not the point of the evening, however. You wanted to talk about what happened to you, Trina. You wish to understand it?’

‘I need to… come to terms with it. I need to know why she came after me and I need to know I’m not insane.’

Faline smiled her feline smile. ‘Oh no, my dear, you’re not insane. If anything, you’re more sane than everyone else. It’s simply important that the general populace doesn’t know.’

‘Why?’

‘What’s the point in having a secret everyone is privy to?’ Faline replied as though the answer was obvious.

October 18th.

On another occasion, Nisa would have considered waking up on a Saturday morning with Trina lying beside her a really bad thing. As it was, they had got drunk, all three of them, and then stumbled off to pack themselves into Nisa’s narrow bed at some point in the early hours. A few hours later, Faline had got up to pad out of the room; presumably dawn was beginning outside, but Nisa still had her bedroom windows thoroughly blacked out. There had been a warm cat against her feet a few minutes later. Trina had never tried anything. In fact, she had not even undressed entirely and lay in the bed in knickers and T-shirt, and that was how Nisa left her as she slipped out of the room, her stomach demanding breakfast, to discover it was mid-morning.

The letter from the Order jumped out at her as she ate cereal. The envelope was that thick, expensive paper with a lot of texture and the suggestion of something important inside. The embossed crest tended to suggest that this was some sort of official communication, but quite why the stuffed shirts at the Order would want to communicate with her she had no idea. She tore it open, took another mouthful of muesli, and pulled out a thick, white card.

‘Invitation to…’ She frowned at it. An invitation to the Order’s annual Halloween Ball, Nisa Harper plus one, attire to be ‘suitably humorous,’ please RSVP. Why were they inviting her to the ball? She flipped the card over and found a note written there in handwriting which suggested a woman, not a man. Please say you’ll come. A. Not that ‘A’ really helped since she knew two of those at the Order: Alexander Maxim and Alaina Peters. It was just that Nisa could not really believe Maxim had ever written anything close to ‘please say you’ll come’ in his life.

She flipped the card back. Eight in the evening of the thirty-first, obviously, to finish no later than two in the morning…

‘The Hermetic Order of the Eternal Flame?’ Trina was up and standing behind her. ‘Sounds very Harry Potter.’

‘They’re not especially. I’d almost say “more Voldemort,” but I think it’s actually more like the Ministry of Magic. Kind of bureaucratic, you know?’

‘Well, they have a Halloween Ball, which is kind of cool. Maybe cool in a stiff way.’

‘They got a new boss a few years ago and he’s supposed to have dislodged the broom they had stuck up their arses. Still, I think this is probably going to be a lot of wealthy old men in tuxedos and silly masks getting drunk and trying to pick up younger women in short dresses and masks.’

Trina giggled. ‘Sounds awesome.’

‘Oh yeah,’ Nisa agreed. She was going to need to talk to Hanson about this one. If she was being invited by Alaina then it was personal and probably nothing really to do with XC, but then her going to a party at the Order might be viewed as a bribe or something… And if Maxim was somehow involved it was worse. But then if Maxim was involved then it might be politically good to go… Damn, why was everything so complicated? ‘Yeah. Really awesome.’

Westminster, October 19th.

Hanson looked at the invitation as though Nisa had handed her an intricate and perplexing puzzle, wrapped in a puff adder. ‘It’s not from Maxim,’ Hanson mused. ‘Peters hasn’t added her little note to an invitation from him.’

‘She can’t accept it,’ Kellog said. He was sitting on one of the office chairs and giving the impression that steam was coming from his ears, even if there was no visible sign of it. Actual fumes might be possible, considering the weird stuff that could happen around magicians, but of fumes there was no real indication. ‘It has to be a trick, a trap, a… Maxim hasn’t done anything without a motive since I’ve known him.’

‘It’s not from Maxim,’ Hanson repeated.

‘It’s from his PA.’

‘Yes. You know as well as I do that getting one of ours into that place under relatively unescorted conditions would be worth a little risk.’

‘It’s one of Maxim’s parties!’ Kellog snapped. ‘We’ve heard the reports. It’s an opportunity for drinking, taking one or two alchemical creations we generally frown upon, and probably engaging in dubious activities in the members’ rooms.’

‘So we make sure she knows which things to avoid, and… Well, the last of those is really up to Nisa’s discretion.’ The older woman looked at the younger. ‘I’d advise against it, but that would be up to you.’

‘Uh… going to the party or the dubious activities?’ Nisa asked.

‘The latter. I’m inclined to suggest you go. Just… be very careful.’

‘O-okay.’ Nisa glanced at Kellog. Her partner was not at all happy. ‘I… I can sound out Alaina. I need to talk to her about it anyway, accept and find out what the dress code actually is. I’ll talk to her about it and see how it feels.’

Kellog sagged a little, coming off-boil. ‘That’s probably a good idea. If it is her interest in you that’s prompted this… Getting a good look around the place would be useful. I’ll arrange something with Norbery and we’ll go over the current trends in alchemical narcotics with you. You should know anyway.’

‘Great,’ Nisa said, sagging almost as much as he had, ‘more training.’

October 21st.

Nisa forced herself to stop fiddling with her fork for the third time and looked at the door of the restaurant again. A dinner date to discuss the invitation seemed a little excessive, but Alaina had suggested it: the Order was in turmoil preparing for their big, annual shindig, she was rushed off her feet, and not having to prepare food before she collapsed, exhausted, into bed one evening this week would be great. The restaurant was Italian and had a good supply of light meals, so it was not like they would be eating for hours, and they both used public transport so a drink was not a problem, right?

But Nisa still felt nervous. It was not first date nerves either. In fact, that was exactly the problem: it felt like she knew Alaina better than anyone else on the planet. What if she was different from the alternative one the Glitch had conjured up? What if she was exactly the same?

And then the bell over the door rattled and she was there. Nisa felt her pulse quicken and told herself it was just physical attraction; the day was bright with clear skies and a slight bite in the air, and Alaina was dressed in a short, pleated skirt and a jacket with a sheer, cream blouse beneath it. She looked alarmingly at ease in the six-inch heels she was wearing and the added length to her legs just made the skirt seem shorter. As always, her blonde hair was pulled up behind her head with errant strands framing her face. Her blue eyes sparkled as she spotted Nisa, smiled brightly, and walked over.

‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ Alaina began, slipping into the opposite seat quickly and gracefully. ‘Like I said, work is Hell at the moment. I mean, not literally, though I think I’ve seen flames come out of Alexander’s nose a couple of times, and if the caterers screw up one more time I swear he’ll start throwing curses around…’ She trailed off, apparently remembering she was talking to a cop. Her eyes widened. ‘I mean, he wouldn’t… It’s just a–’

‘I’m off the clock,’ Nisa said, grinning. ‘If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be drinking. Uh, I ordered a glass for you. I hope it’s okay.’

Alaina grinned and lifted the glass of white wine, breathing in the scent before taking a sip. ‘That’s perfect… dry… Is that a Friulano?’

‘Uh, yeah.’

‘I love Friulano wines! They’re my favourite whites.’ She was beaming.

Nisa swallowed and smiled back. ‘Lucky guess then. Should we order?’

‘Great! Then we can talk.’ Nisa watched her studying the menu, having already decided on her own food and knowing what Alaina was going to order. It came as no surprise when the blonde selected the cavatappi, which the restaurant was calling ‘amori,’ with a pesto sauce. ‘I like the outfit,’ Alaina went on. ‘Those are power shoulders.’

Nisa grinned, feeling her cheeks colour a little. She had picked up some new clothes, and the blouse was a bright scarlet and did indeed have puffed-out shoulders. ‘I needed more than the one suit I could look like a cop in. Can’t be a rebel in Lycra all the time.’

‘Well, it’s smart and it works for you, but you’ve got the body to pull off most outfits.’

‘Thanks again. That’s one of the reasons I wanted to meet. The dress code for this ball was a little vague and–’

‘So you’re coming?’ The interruption was quick and bright, and Alaina leaned forward a little in her seat, eyes sparkling. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d come because… There’s not exactly bad blood between the Order and XC, but it’s not all smiles and giggles either, and I think there’s some history there, but I was really hoping you’d come.’

‘Well, I wanted to talk it over because there is a little… bad feeling between–’

‘Alexander said you might not be able to. There’s the politics and he said your partner didn’t like him much so you might have a bit of a low opinion of the Order.’

‘Kellog said I should make my own mind up, but the Order doesn’t usually let us into the premises without a warrant or due cause. Maxim… Alexander is okay with this?’

‘He said if I wanted to invite someone this year, I was putting in so much work on it that I deserved it. And I thought of you, and he… Well, he did look kind of dubious about it, but he said you’d seemed “like a reasonable young woman” and agreed. And, uh, I wasn’t actually sure if you were with anyone, so I put a plus-one on the invitation…’

Nisa smirked. ‘There is no one I’m seeing like that at the moment. And I doubt I could take them to the Order if I was. I’m supposed to keep stuff like that under wraps, not spread it about. There’s a friend… She recently discovered the world was a little stranger than she thought and she’s been after me for ages, but we’re just friends. I don’t have a boyfriend and Kellog would probably chew off his foot trying to escape if anyone suggested he should accompany me.’

Alaina’s smile was almost predatory. ‘So I get you all to myself?’

‘Unless you count however many other people will be there. Now, what am I supposed to wear?’

The grin was bright. ‘Oh, anything you like, as long as it’s a bit Halloween. It’s not formal. Some of the older men will be in suits, because they can’t cope with not being. Alexander will wear a suit too, because he’s expected to really. I’ve got… No, that’ll be a surprise, but it’s short and not terribly proper. Your clubbing outfit would work fine. I mean, it’s black and…’ She trailed off, running her tongue over her lips and then covering the action by sipping her wine. ‘Yeah, that would be fine, or whatever you like really.’

‘I’ll see what I can come up with then,’ Nisa replied. She glanced around and spotted their waiter approaching with two plates. ‘Here comes the food.’

‘Great, I’m starving. Lunch was a biscuit.’

‘You’re overworked.’

‘Tell me about it. But you’re a cop, so isn’t that supposed to be my line to you?’

‘Yeah, well… Things are a little quiet at the moment.’ Nisa grinned as the waiter walked away and added, ‘Does it sound terribly ominous if I say “too quiet?”’

‘Yes,’ Alaina replied, spearing twisted pasta with her fork, ‘it does. And it’s not allowed to get un-quiet until after the ball so don’t tempt fate.’

Tower Hamlets, October 25th.

In fact, things were remaining too quiet as the week went on. There seemed to be nothing much happening around the city. Instances of strange, shadowy figure sightings were down. It was almost as if the supernatural world had decided that a date between Nisa and Alaina was worth putting aside any evil projects for a while. Nisa was not going to say any such thing out loud, especially not near Kellog, who was grumpier than usual.

On Saturday evening, when the buzzer sounded on Nisa’s door, she was half-expecting to hear Alaina’s voice when she pressed the intercom. Instead it was Trina. ‘Can I come up? Won’t take long.’

‘Sure,’ Nisa replied, buzzing her in, and then she waited at the flat’s door while her friend came up in the lift. ‘Problem?’ she asked as soon as she saw Trina’s face.

‘No. Yes. Kind of…’ Trina settled onto the sofa when she was in the front room, and then got up again and paced. ‘I just… I’m moving to Cornwall.’

Nisa blinked at her. ‘Cornwall? That’s… a change.’

‘That’s the point. I have an aunt who runs a little tourist shop out there, and she says she could do with some help and the company would be nice. Uh, her husband died a year or so ago. Some sort of boating accident. She’s been alone out there since and… I see shadows everywhere, Nisa. Moving. Sneaking up on me.’

Nisa stared at her. ‘Not trying to be funny, Trina, but are you really seeing shadows moving and following you, or are you being metaphorical?’

The gang leader opened her mouth, closed it, frowned… ‘Metaphorical. I think.’

‘You’re not seeing shadowy humanoid figures watching you, just–’

‘Just shadows that feel like they’re in the wrong place. Spooky scare story stuff. I don’t think I’ve seen anything that could be a real, walking shadow. There really are real, walking shadows?’

‘Jury is still out on that one, but if you don’t feel better once you’re in this Cornish village, you call me and we’ll see what we can do, okay?’ Trina nodded. She did not look like the charismatic, tough leader of the Leopold Queens right now. ‘When are you going?’

‘I’m all packed up. I’m leaving first thing tomorrow. The Queens… have kind of broken up anyway. The Jilly thing caused a big split and me going has fractured them further, but I think you’ll be fine. You know, standing up to Jilly’s lieutenant kind of marked you up in everyone’s estimates and they all know you’re with the cops now. They’ll leave you be.’ Trina gave her a grin. ‘And you could always hex them if they get out of line.’

‘That kind of thing is really frowned upon,’ Nisa said. ‘But… maybe a little curse…’

The City, October 31st.

It seemed fortunate that Halloween fell on a Friday. The evening had turned out cool; a sharp breeze cut the air and made Nisa value the thick coat she had invested in, thinking that police work might well result in winter nights in the open. Even with the chill in the air, it was clear and there were bright stars burning in the sky above the city, and the great and… great of the Hermetic Order of the Eternal Flame were turning up to drink, dance, and act inappropriately, and tomorrow was Saturday so they did not have to worry.

There were staff waiting in the lobby to take coats, handing small tokens to their owners for later collection. It seemed very efficient to Nisa, given the arcane nature of the place, but then she was busy trying not to feel like she was out of place. She was dressed in her clubbing outfit, because it was black and Alaina had liked it, and because she had no idea what else to wear. Around her were women probably showing as much flesh, but what was concealed was usually behind elegant, if short, dresses.

But then Nisa walked into the main hall and things changed. She saw at least three women in corsets and stockings, strutting around on high heels with no sign of embarrassment. The men were mostly in suits, she noted, but a few had shirts unbuttoned further than decorum suggested they should. There was a weird undercurrent in the room, as though people were waiting for the fun to start, knowing it was just a matter of time.

‘You look stunning.’ Nisa turned to see Alaina. The blonde was in a short, red latex dress, strapless with the shaped bra cups rising to points. Lace-topped hold-ups stopped a couple of inches below her hemline, and she was in thigh-high, heeled boots. There were plastic, sequinned horns sticking out of her hair, and a latex tail curled around from her back, bouncing a little as she moved.

‘You look… pretty devilish.’

Grinning, Alaina reached up and stroked at a horn. ‘You like? You don’t think the tail is too much? I wasn’t sure about the tail.’

‘It’s cute. I was going to say I felt under-dressed, but…’ Her eyes followed a brunette in a scarlet basque and thong as she walked past, smiling slightly.

‘Yeah,’ Alaina said, ‘don’t think so. Come on, we’ll get you a drink and I’ll show you the buffet, and then we’ll… uh… Well, we party, I guess.’

‘It’s what I came to do,’ Nisa replied, grinning.

~~~

Maxim was in an immaculate suit, black, very black, with a dark red lining and a shirt that was also a blood red, open enough to show off a firmly muscled chest. He was circulating through the crowd and so, eventually, he was bound to come to Nisa, happening upon her while Alaina was powdering her nose.

‘You are looking quite comfortable, Sergeant Harper,’ he said, smiling at her with a slightly wolfish glow in his eyes.

‘I’m off duty and this is a party, High Grand Master,’ Nisa replied.

‘Then perhaps we can dispense with the formalities.’

Her lips twitched. ‘That was the idea. I’ve been hearing Alaina call you Alexander all evening.’

‘And I’ve been hearing how happy she is that Nisa was coming for the last week or so. You’re enjoying our little get-together, Nisa?’

‘It’s… I think a place with a name beginning with “Hermetic” should be a lot stuffier than this.’

‘It was much stuffier, and you’ve been here during the day. We’re normally more restrained, but I believe everyone should let their hair down once in a while.’

‘I think we all do. People tend to go a bit… strange otherwise.’

‘And in our business, “strange” can be both very bad and very strange. I was glad you were able to deal with Jasperson.’

‘Yeah. Just a shame it wasn’t sooner.’ There was a sudden sensation of cold clawing at Nisa’s stomach and she knew exactly what it was. ‘Would you excuse me? I think I need to follow Alaina’s example. Too much wine.’

‘Of course. Enjoy the party.’

Nisa stalked away, locating the very well-appointed restroom easily and finding Alaina there fixing up her make-up in a mirror which would have spanned the width of Nisa’s bedroom. Alaina glanced at her in the mirror and frowned. ‘You’re looking pale.’

‘I always look pale,’ Nisa replied.

‘Paler. Something wrong?’

‘Uh… Not really. Your boss reminded me about something and I needed to be away from the party for a minute.’

‘That business we helped with? That was not nice and you were right in the middle of it, and he should know better.’

‘He didn’t–’

The blonde girl stepped closer, her hand lifting to touch Nisa’s cheek. ‘This is a party and there’s no call for reminding people of bad things.’ She stood there, her thigh pressed against Nisa’s leg, hand on her cheek, faces so close together. Deep, blue eyes looked into Nisa’s and Nisa felt her lips parting, waiting for the kiss, but Alaina blinked and pulled away. She looked confused, or hesitant. ‘We need more wine.’

‘Right,’ Nisa said. ‘More wine will fix anything.’

~~~

It was somewhere around midnight that Nisa found herself being led through dark corridors by a fairly tipsy Alaina. Not quite entirely dark corridors, there were lights on, but at wide intervals which left long expanses of shadow. Nisa had no clue where they were going, but Alaina had said she would take her on a tour, so they were touring. It was just that they seemed to be touring corridors…

Without warning, Alaina opened a door and stepped through, dragging Nisa along with her. The room was big and the sound she could still hear from the party was deadened suddenly, probably by the mass of books lining the walls. There were a lot of them, floor to ceiling on three walls aside from where the door came in. The fourth wall contained a fireplace, and the fire in that was the only source of light. Alaina did not turn the room lights on.

‘Small library,’ Alaina said, her voice soft. ‘No raised voices in the library.’ She giggled. ‘I like it in here. It’s quiet. If I’m working late I come here for a break.’ Letting go of Nisa’s hand, she walked over to a desk which was set near to the fireplace and rested her behind on the old oak. The firelight flickered wildly on her glossy dress.

‘It’s a nice room,’ Nisa said. ‘It’s kind of cosy.’

‘Uh-huh. Why am I so attracted to you, Nisa?’

The sudden question brought Nisa’s eyebrows up. ‘I… Well…’

‘No, I don’t get it either. First time I saw you I thought “that is a woman I’d like to shag senseless,” but it’s more than that and I don’t get it. Tell me you don’t feel the same thing.’

Nisa crossed the space between them and paused, leaning forward with a hand on the desk. Their faces were barely an inch apart and she could feel Alaina’s breath on her cheek, stuttering, uncertain. ‘I could argue it’s fate or something,’ Nisa said, her voice almost a whisper.

‘Not sure I believe in that stuff. We make our own destiny.’

‘Then I’m going to make it now.’ Leaning forward, Nisa claimed Alaina’s mouth with hers. Tongue parted lips, slid deeper, met no resistance until it was fencing with Alaina’s tongue. The latex dress was slick beneath Nisa’s hands as she slid them up Alaina’s body and found the little points over her breasts and rolled them down. And then Alaina was gasping as Nisa’s thumb grazed over her nipple.

‘We… we should lock the door,’ Alaina moaned.

‘Does anyone come here?’

‘They might… m-might to do this.’

‘Cool,’ Nisa said, ‘we could get caught.’ She dipped her head and sucked in a nipple as her hands lowered to find the hem of the red, rubber dress.

‘Oh… shit. Don’t stop.’

Nisa had not been planning to. She rolled the rubber up Alaina’s thighs and spread those thighs, one hand cupping Alaina’s naked mound. No knickers, naughty girl. Just perfect, and she was already wet and there was no resistance as Nisa slipped a finger into her. How long had the hot little blonde been waiting for this? How long had she been planning to get Nisa alone in this room?

‘Oh…’ Alaina’s gasped cry told Nisa it was a long time. ‘Oh… oh… please… I need… please.’

Nisa dropped to her knees and slid another finger into Alaina, her tongue finding the hot, swollen nub of her clitoris easily and quickly. Alaina’s hands curled around the back of Nisa’s skull and pressed her closer. Nisa’s tongue lapped and her fingers danced, pushing and prodding, quickening and slowing, and driving until Alaina’s hips were bucking and she was gasping and panting, and then Alaina was clamping a hand over her mouth to cut off the scream which was most certainly not suitable for a library.

‘Pull that skirt up,’ Alaina said when her breathing had returned to normal. ‘I want you on the rug in front of the fire.’

Nisa grinned at her and turned to do as she asked. ‘But what if someone comes?’

‘Someone is going to come. You.’

Tower Hamlets, November 1st.

Faline peered at her from the lounge sofa as Nisa stumbled into the flat. ‘I wasn’t sure you would actually be back before dawn,’ the Witch Cat said.

‘I’m back,’ Nisa replied, grinning brightly.

‘Hmm, yes. And you had sex, with the blonde girl.’

‘I so did. She was almost like I remembered from the fake world. A bit crazier. A little more wild once she got going.’

‘Interesting,’ Faline replied. ‘You wish to see her again?’

‘I so wish.’

‘I’m happy for you, but perhaps you should get some sleep.’

Nisa giggled. ‘I’m too hyped to sleep!’

She was unconscious inside of ten minutes.

~~~

‘…have seen…’

‘Is she in…’

‘…demon as well…’

‘Did she see?’

‘She saw, but has not yet seen.’

‘She must…’

Nisa turned in her sleep and the voices were cast aside, but her eyes flickered open and, for a brief instant, she saw the pattern of light hanging over the coin on her bedside table. Closing her eyes, she sank herself into a memory of Alaina’s face looking up at her. Fuck the stupid coin. Could she not have one night of being happy?

Westminster, November 3rd.

‘You are looking rather happy,’ Kellog said from the doorway of her office.

‘I’m feeling kind of happy,’ Nisa replied. ‘I had a nice night out on Friday. Nothing bad happened and I didn’t sense anything weird. I didn’t see any signs of anything strange being used, though I won’t say they weren’t, just that I didn’t see anything. Plus, things are still pretty quiet.’

Kellog nodded, though it looked a little reluctant. ‘We had a report of some shadow figures come in. Filtered through from Newcastle. Vague, and late, but it sounds like the same sort of thing.’

Nisa giggled. ‘Well, Newcastle… Geordies? Probably too much of the “broon hale” on a Saturday night.’

Her partner winced. ‘I’m American and even I know that was a terrible impersonation of a Geordie. I’m going to put word out to a few of the regions, see if anyone else has seen anything out of the ordinary.’

‘You’re thinking that we haven’t seen them because they’ve been further afield?’

He shrugged. ‘And maybe they’ve just done what they came for and they’ll be gone.’

‘I never took you for an optimist, Kellog.’

‘Oh, I’m not. But sometimes these things do just quietly go away. Of course, when they do, it leaves us with an unsolved case and the worry they could come back, so it’s not really optimism.’

‘Well, that’s good. I don’t want you shattering my illusions of how the world works. Again.’

~~~

Covent Garden was a convenient place to meet, roughly midway between XC and the Order’s building. It was just coffee, on Nisa’s lunch break, and Kellog had noticed that she was actually going out for a break rather than staying in the office, but he had said nothing. So Nisa met Alaina in a coffee shop in Covent Garden.

The blonde looked nervous as she walked in, but her smile was genuine and bright when she spotted Nisa. ‘I… I wasn’t entirely sure you would be here,’ Alaina said as she sat down across the small table. ‘I know we said we would meet, but…’

‘Thought I might have forgotten you already?’ Nisa’s lips twitched in amusement as she spoke.

‘Well… You’re busy, police work and… whatever else. I haven’t stopped thinking about the library all weekend.’

‘I’ve slept,’ Nisa replied. ‘I’m not sure I was thinking about it then.’

Alaina giggled. ‘Okay, yes, I remember having a dream where we were doing it on a white beach, in the tropics maybe, so that wasn’t the library.’ Nisa returned the giggle. ‘When can we do it again? I mean, I don’t think I want you just for the sex, but the sex was…’ Alaina sighed and a shiver ran through Nisa’s body, originating somewhere in her crotch.

‘Uh, well, I am kind of busy, I admit. I’m still learning the ropes, so to speak.’

‘Ropes? Now there’s an interesting thought…’

Nisa felt her cheeks colouring and a few other physical reactions starting. ‘Friday night? We could catch a club and… And then see where we go to from there.’

‘Friday? So long. I’ll be dragging you into the restrooms.’ Flashes of her alternate life with alternate-Alaina danced through Nisa’s mind. ‘I can wait until then, but we have coffee on Thursday to confirm. You might have picked up a hot case and can’t make it.’

‘Nothing’s that hot,’ Nisa told her and then forced herself not to add ‘except you,’ because the line was too corny.

‘You are,’ Alaina whispered and then burst into a fit of giggles. ‘Damn that was too corny for words.’

November 6th.

‘So we have a few reports of shadowy figures,’ Kellog said over coffee in the break room. ‘Not what you would call exemplary eyewitness reports, but reports which more or less match our other ones.’

‘This is out of the city, right?’ Nisa asked.

‘Yes. Newcastle, as I said, and there are ones from Glasgow, two in Edinburgh, York, Borth.’

‘Borth?’ Nisa felt her heart lurch. ‘Is that in Cornwall?’

‘Wales. A fairly small… village I think is the best word. Just north of Aberystwyth on the coast.’

‘Oh, right.’

‘You were thinking of Miss Norris?’

‘Yes. I wasn’t aware you knew she’d gone to Cornwall.’

‘Hanson mentioned it. We tend to keep an eye on people affected by the supernatural. Especially when they’re friends of our staff.’

‘Thanks.’ She pursed her lips and then took a pull on her coffee while she thought. ‘I’ve been working on some statistical analysis stuff to show up patterns in the data we have. Maybe when I finally get it all worked out we can spot something.’

‘Have you any idea how much longer? To finish the research, I mean.’

‘Couple of weeks. I’m pretty sure I’ve got it right. I’m going over my maths again. It’s a confidence thing, I guess. I’ve always been way better at applied. Statistics is… well, it’s statistics. It always feels like summoning facts out of thin air.’

‘You summon energy from thin air on a regular basis,’ he pointed out.

‘Statistics is more arcane than reality hacking.’

Norbery stopped in the doorway as he walked in, raising his eyebrows. ‘Now that is not something you expect to hear.’

‘You saying I’m wrong?’ Nisa asked, her own eyebrows going up.

‘Well… no… You’re probably right.’

November 10th.

And just when Nisa was beginning to believe that life was really looking good, Alaina dropped a spanner in the works. They were back in the coffee shop. Nisa was feeling a tiny bit guilty since she had barely seen Faline all weekend, and that was due to Alaina having spent a fair amount of that time in Nisa’s bed. Faline had appeared late Sunday, sulky but trying not to show it, and had explained that she was not that fond of voyeurism. And now…

‘Alexander’s confirmed it,’ Alaina said. ‘We’re going to be away a month. Thirty-three days, leaving on Saturday.’ She pouted. ‘Early Saturday. We’re flying out to the US first and the check-in time is ridiculous. Two weeks bouncing across the States, and then over to Germany, down to Italy, uh, France, Norway…’

‘Sounds tiring,’ Nisa replied, trying not to sound dejected.

‘It’s going to be…’ Alaina ground to a halt and frowned, and then said, ‘It’s going to be weeks of not being able to see you. He did have the good grace to look apologetic about it.’

Nisa gave her new sort-of-girlfriend her best smile. ‘Think what the reunion sex will be like when you get back. And you’ll be here for Christmas. And I’ve got a load of work I need to concentrate on, so it’s kind of good timing.’

‘It’s not,’ Alaina moaned. ‘I only just got my hands on that body of yours and now I’m being dragged off. It’s not fair. Though… the reunion sex sounds good.’

‘And, you know, we have these things called “telephones” now. They let you communicate with other people across great distances.’

Alaina giggled. ‘Now you’re being silly. I want to see you before I go.’

‘You leaving from Heathrow?’ That got a nod. ‘So we get a room out there Friday night. Hotel sex, and you’re right there at the airport when it’s time to go.’

‘Now I see why you’re a cop,’ Alaina said, smiling. ‘It’s clear that you’re a genius.’

Heathrow Airport, November 15th.

Nisa turned, her eyes falling on the blonde hair spread on the pillow beside her. She smiled. Her muscles were probably going to ache in the morning, but it would be worth it. Damn, but they had tried to make sure neither of them would forget the other before Alaina left. The thought made her squirm a little and she thought of waking her bedmate for another round, but… No, it was too late now… Or too early now… And they were both tired…

‘…still does not know.’

‘She does not need…’

‘She hears us!’

‘Let her. She hears, but does not listen.’

~~~

Nisa watched as Alaina followed Alexander Maxim through the security barriers and on into the interior of the airport. Maxim had given Nisa a smile as the two women kissed goodbye, which was kind of nice. He seemed pleased that they had hooked up, which Nisa was a little surprised about given that he did not really seem the type to view same-sex relationships with favour. She waited and was rewarded by a quick look back and a wave before Alaina was swallowed by the tight security which accompanied international travel these days.

‘Damn good reason not to leave the country,’ Nisa muttered and then turned to leave. She had promised Faline she would be back as soon as possible and that she would cuddle the cat thoroughly for putting up with a lovesick owner. Faline had said that that was unnecessary. Nisa’s lips twitched. Actually, she had looked horrified at the idea of excessive cuddling which meant it had to happen. Oh yes, it did.

Anyway, there was going to be some hard work, even if it was the weekend: Nisa was sure she was close to a solution on the statistical analysis, but the tests she was doing on her program kept coming back wrong. That either meant her software was wrong or her maths was incorrect. The only way to be sure was to go over both, carefully, thoroughly… again. Okay, so police work could be tedious, monotonous, downright boring at times, but statistics…

Poplar, November 21st.

‘I know it’s not exactly your area,’ Nisa said as she showed Spike her laptop and the program it was displaying, ‘and I know it’s police stuff and against your principles, but…’

Spike huffed out a breath. ‘And you just expect me to find some bug in your code, just by looking?’

‘Well, you’re a genius wizard hacker, right?’

‘Right…’

‘We all know you can do it, Spike,’ Jenna put in, grinning. ‘You’re just holding back because the keyboard might give you cop cooties.’

‘Hadn’t thought of that. Anyone got any rubber gloves?’

Giggling, Nisa dug in her bag and produced a pair of blue latex gloves. ‘Actually…’

Spike raised an eyebrow. ‘What on Earth have you got those in there for?’ He waved it away, focussing on the code. ‘Never mind, let’s see what I can see, uh…’

And that was when Nisa felt it. As he focussed and you could almost see his mind narrowing in on the screen and the code, and the flow of it all, and how the code would react when data was put in… There was the unmistakable sensation of magic being worked in her presence. She had to stifle a gasp, because it so felt like it was really coming from Spike, but it could not be him… Could it?

‘There you go,’ he said and the feeling was gone, but that just made it seem more likely that he was the source. ‘This loop… No, these loops are going to terminate prematurely. You’ll be failing to scan some of the data each time it iterates.’

‘Told you,’ Nisa said quickly. ‘Told you you were a wizard.’ Though the correct term was ‘technomancer.’

‘Huh,’ he grunted, and she believed the sincerity of his dismissal. ‘I’m just good. Anyone could do it. I never got your little light trick working. I’m no wizard.’

‘Just keep telling yourself that, Spike.’ Nisa pulled her laptop over and peered at the code loops he had indicated, already half lost in fixing them.

‘What I want to know,’ Lena said, ‘is who the new love of Nisa’s life is?’

‘Who says I have a new love in my life?’

‘The way your cheeks flushed when I asked.’

‘And the way your back is straighter when you walk,’ Jenna added. ‘You kind of floated in, even if you had a problem to solve. That’s love.’

‘Her name’s Alaina,’ Nisa said, not looking up, ‘and she’s blonde, very cute, fantastic in bed.’

Wallace let out a groan. ‘Why are all the best ones gay? At least tell me you have video.’

‘I do,’ Nisa lied, ‘and you can’t watch it.’

Tower Hamlets, November 23rd.

‘It’s a weird number,’ Nisa said into her phone, ‘so it must be Alaina. Where are you?’

‘Oh… uh… Hang on, it’s Sunday… Washington. Washington, D.C. not the state. We’re flying out there day after tomorrow.’ Alaina sounded jetlagged. Certainly tired.

‘Be careful out there. I hear sparkling vampires are all the rage on the north-west coast.’

‘Huh? Oh, that. You know people in our, um, business don’t talk about that book.’

‘Probably not. You sound tired.’

‘I haven’t been up long. Time difference and stuff. Just not awake yet. We have been pushing kind of hard. Alexander’s a bit irritable, but he’s under a lot of pressure.’

Nisa frowned, leaning back from her laptop where she was busy arranging data files for processing by her newly fixed and validated software. ‘You’re okay though, right?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine, and we have a two-day break in the schedule once we get to Seattle. That’ll ease the tension. Gotta say, the academic types in New England make the Order seem normal. I mean… You ever read any Lovecraft?’

‘Some, yeah.’

‘Well, now I know where he got it from. Wee-erd. I kept expecting people with fish heads for, well, heads to turn up.’

Nisa giggled. ‘Well, take it easy, and don’t take any lip from Alexander. You’re his PA, not his whipping girl.’

‘Oh yeah. If I’m letting anyone whip me it’s you, and I was thinking more of–’

‘A good spanking?’ Nisa asked before she could stop herself.

‘How did you know I liked…? Now I’m blushing. We’ll discuss that, at length, when I get back. I need some breakfast, gotta go. Love you. Bye.’

The connection went before Nisa could reply and she sat there, her stomach fluttering. Love? Did she really, or was it just a cute thing to say before hanging up? And now was not the time to worry over that given that the woman was thousands of miles away.

‘Back to work,’ Nisa grumbled, and leaned forward again, peering at her screen.

November 26th.

‘How is your analysis going?’ Faline asked as she walked in from the bedroom, straightening the shift-like dress she had agreed was ‘not too bad.’

Nisa gave her a quick smile, mostly to encourage the clothing use. ‘I got everything onto the PC at the office. I mean, it’s more like a small server. Way more powerful than my laptop.’ She frowned. ‘Maybe I should have asked Spike about multithreading the thing. Anyway, as it stands it’s going to be days of processing before it spits out results. It’s doing a pretty complex regression analysis–’

‘Nisa, I may be quite bright, and I am knowledgeable about many things, but mathematics is not one of them. I have no idea what a “regression analysis” is.’

‘No, probably not. You and most of the population, to be honest. Doesn’t really matter; the point I was making is that it’s going to take time so I’m waiting.’

‘Oh… Perhaps that’s why I thought you should look at this again.’ Faline raised her hand and flipped the coin toward Nisa.

Nisa watched it twirling, turning end over end, as the world seemed to slow, and she saw the glyphs marking the surface flickering in the overhead light, and… Everything snapped back to normal as she reached up and plucked the coin from the air. ‘This thing…’ Her thumb slid over the sigil which drew out the pattern she recognised as belonging, somehow, to energy magic. ‘I still don’t really…’ Her brow furrowed as she moved her thumb and another pattern sprang up. Something new, another intricate, multidimensional shape which seemed to pull at her mind… Mind? Something about it felt like the spell she used to speak to Faline in cat form.

‘Nisa?’ Faline sounded a little concerned.

‘I think… Somehow I’ve opened up more of this thing. Maybe it’s all the practice with that telepathy spell.’

‘You can see more?’ Faline settled down beside her friend, peering at the coin, even though she could not see the patterns Nisa could.

Nisa moved her thumb and another pattern rose from the coin. This one was somehow more solid, harder, sharper, though it was just as complex as the other ones and it was twisted into more than three dimensions as they were. Matter. This was the pattern of matter and it was right there, waiting for her to discover just exactly what it was.

‘Yeah, I can see more. A lot more.’

Westminster, December 1st.

Kellog’s birthday was marked by a small departmental outing to the pub at lunchtime, and that was only because there was not much going on and Hanson thought they could all do with the amusement. The amusement was largely that of watching Kellog squirm at turning thirty-one and having his nose rubbed in it.

‘I tell you what,’ Nisa said in consolation, ‘I turn twenty-five in a couple of years. I’ll let you embarrass me horribly then.’

‘Thank you,’ Kellog replied, an eyebrow shifting slightly. ‘So kind of you. You’re looking… oddly enthused. There’s something of a confident quality about you which I don’t believe I’ve noticed before.’

He was, she thought, changing the subject. ‘Well…’

‘He’s right,’ Sandra said. ‘He’s trying to change the subject from his advancing age, but he’s right. I’d say it was down to this Alaina, but she’s not here and I think that’s only part of it.’

‘The statistics program I’m running may actually turn up something,’ Nisa said, ‘and I’m quite jazzed about getting it working. I think my studies with more arcane forms of manipulation are coming along too. I had… an epiphany.’ She was still unable to mention the agents, and the coin seemed to be part of that. At least she could skirt around it and sound like she was being obscure for anyone listening who might not be in the know.

‘A very big word,’ Norbery said, ‘especially considering it isn’t a very big word.’

‘You seem to suffer from them,’ Kellog commented.

‘Yeah,’ Nisa agreed, ‘but this one didn’t require a week in a coma. I guess I’m starting to feel more confident. That’s good, right?’

‘It can’t hurt,’ Norbery replied. ‘Now, Brandon, old man, have you considered making a will yet? What with your advancing years and such?’

Nisa giggled, mostly because of the way Kellog’s shoulders sagged, and the conversation was refocussed on ribbing their American colleague.

~~~

‘Is she ready?’

‘Soon she will have to be.’

‘She hears us clearly now. That was not–’

‘She hears but does not remember. And she must be ready.’

Nisa rolled over in her bed and, for a second, thought she saw shadows in the corners of her room. The fear that gripped her pulled her up from sleep, but…

‘They are not here.’ The assurance sent her tumbling back into deep sleep. ‘But they are waiting…’

Tower Hamlets, December 6th.

Nisa was lying on the sofa with her laptop actually in her lap, her eyes glued to the data her analysis program had dumped out, when the phone rang. She picked up almost absently and answered without looking. ‘Hey.’

‘Nisa? It’s Alaina.’

‘Hey! Sorry, I’m distracted. I’ve got a load of statistical data to go through. Where are you?’

‘Berlin.’ There was a weary quality to the blonde’s voice. ‘We got in this morning, but I barely slept on the flight and I crashed when I got in.’

‘You sound like you’re apologising.’

‘Do I? Yeah… I guess I do. Sorry. I just seem to be doing it a lot recently.’

‘Maxim giving you Hell?’

‘Oh… He’s just stressed.’

Turning, Nisa sat up and focussed properly on the call. ‘You’ve been saying that since you got out there.’

‘I know… I know. He’ll be better once we’re settled into this circuit. He’s been sleeping badly.’

‘Sure.’

‘Uh… I need to go. We’ve got a meeting with some guy about… Oh, I need to find the notes. I’ll call. Bye.’

Nisa stared at the phone for a few seconds. Maxim had seemed like a nice enough sort of guy with an edge of the control freak Kellog had suggested was there, but maybe Kellog had been closer to the mark after all. ‘Just another week, Alaina,’ she said to the quiet phone. ‘Then you can forget about him for a bit.’ She looked back at her laptop. ‘I, on the other hand, can’t forget about this, even if I want to.’ And she returned to studying correspondence figures.

Westminster, December 8th.

Nisa pointed meaningfully at what looked a lot like a scatter-pattern of dots on the screen in Hanson’s office. ‘You see it?’ she asked, and Hanson, Norbery, and Kellog stared at the screen.

‘I see…’ Norbery said.

‘Some dots,’ Hanson added when he seemed like he was not going to finish.

‘That,’ Nisa said, ‘is an indication of a dependent relationship between sightings of the shadow figures and currently unexplained disappearances. The Pearson coefficient is zero-point-six-seven. Spearman’s rank coefficient is zero-point-eight-nine. We’re not exactly talking perfect, but–’

‘But we have no idea what that actually means,’ Kellog interrupted. ‘What is a “Parson coefficient?”’

‘Pearson. It’s a statistical measure of how… linked two apparently random sets of data are. Rank coefficients are the same, but they are less sensitive to linearity… And that’s not the point. The point is that people seem to vanish in places where these shadow sightings occur. More people vanish in those places than would be expected given the general background cases of missing persons. So there is a tendency for missing persons to rise with a rise in shadow sightings. That’s a dependency.’

‘You’re saying that the shadow figures are kidnapping people?’

Nisa sagged a little and blew out air. ‘No. If I’m going to do this, I should do it right. I am not saying that. Correspondence does not indicate causality, and even if it does, it doesn’t indicate the direction. Maybe the people are turning into shadows, and so they vanish and we get more sightings. I can only say that there is a mathematically valid connection between the appearance of these things and a rise in missing persons.’

Hanson gave her a nod. ‘Actually, that makes it all sound far more reasonable. You’re not assuming. This is evidence.’

‘Yeah! That’s exactly right.’

‘But we can go further,’ Kellog said. ‘We can give a direction to the… causality, if there is one. Lisa Anne May became a missing person after the shadows were sighted near her home. If the two things are causal, it is the shadows causing the vanishing people, not the people causing the shadows.’

Nisa grinned. ‘Yeah, I had thought of that.’

‘You said the dependency was imperfect?’

‘There are areas where we have shadow sightings and no increase in missing persons. I don’t think more than one or two people are taken in an area so there are several random spikes in missing persons in places there have been no sightings.’

‘Of course. It makes sense. They may be seen somewhere and decide their target was unsuitable.’

‘It’s possible they were not seen in places where there are spikes in missing persons,’ Hanson said, sounding grudging but interested. ‘So… Let’s assume that we have evidence for causality. I think this on top of the evidence from the May case suggest it. These things are turning up and then kidnapping people. Why? And where are they taking them?’

‘And why did they stop?’ Nisa added.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘The cases around London peter out before Halloween, but there are some others around the country. They spread out in late September. I followed them because Kellog mentioned sightings in Scotland and Wales. Then it all just stops during the second week of November.’

Hanson looked at Kellog. ‘It spread out, and then stopped?’

‘Yeah,’ Nisa confirmed. ‘That’s what the data–’

‘Or spread out further?’ Kellog suggested.

‘I’ll make some calls,’ Hanson growled, reaching for her phone.

December 11th.

‘It’s rather circumstantial,’ Hanson said, peering at her monitor as she spoke, ‘but there have been reports of “unusual, shadowy figures” in the US and Europe recently. They believe it’s a new phenomenon, but they weren’t especially concerned about it. I’ve requested that they check missing persons cases in the areas.’

‘Where and when?’ Nisa asked.

‘We have… The largest concentration seems to be the north-eastern coast of the US, starting around the seventeenth of last month. Those seem to peter off after ten or twelve days and there are a few others. The north-west, but those were put down to vampire fans, New Orleans, also put down to vampire fans, and a burst in California. The European ones are more recent. Berlin and Venice.’

‘I’ll see if I can find a pattern in…’

‘Nisa?’ Kellog frowned at her as she trailed off. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Uh… You know Alexander Maxim’s out of the country? Alaina’s with him. Some sort of lecture tour.’

‘We noted him leaving the country,’ Hanson replied. ‘He’s not required to tell us why he’s travelling.’

‘I’d have to check, but I’m almost sure that the places he’s been to match up with the places you mentioned. A-and the dates sound right. I mean, I did some checks and the sightings in the UK fall to nothing around the thirteenth of November and you said the sightings in the US start on the seventeenth. I saw Alaina off from Heathrow on the fifteenth.’ When she looked up, Kellog’s eyes were the most animated she had ever seen them.

Hanson broke into his reverie. ‘That’s not enough to do anything major. It’s an extremely circumstantial connection. I’d need far more before I could make any sort of move on the High Grand Master of the Order.’

‘See what the missing persons search comes up with,’ Kellog replied, ‘and we need to do a thorough track of his itinerary and the sightings we have.’

Nisa nodded. ‘Send me the locations and dates. Alaina gave me their itinerary before she left. I’ll see what I can match up.’

Tower Hamlets, December 12th.

Nisa glanced at the phone number and did not recognise it, but it looked European and she had a feeling she knew who it was. The voice on the other end was urgent but whispering. ‘Nisa? It’s Alaina. What’s going on? Alexander’s in a real rage.’

‘Uh…’ They had got enough evidence together for Hanson to arrange a watch order that afternoon. Wherever Maxim went, someone would be keeping an eye on him. Officially this was a protective measure since they did not want the head of the Order vanishing. ‘I…’

‘He keeps muttering something about Interpol and “officious bloody coppers.” It has to be something to do with you guys.’

‘Uh… We found evidence that you’re being chased around by kidnappers. We’re worried about his safety. I’m worried about yours.’

‘Kidnappers? Who would want to–’

‘Supernatural kidnappers, Alaina. Ghostly things, maybe some sort of Da’at entity.’

‘Oh… I… I’ll be careful. I have to go. Love you.’

‘Damn it,’ Nisa muttered, hitting the address book and locating Kellog’s number. ‘Come on… come on… Kellog! I just got a call from Alaina. Maxim’s found out about the watch on him.’

‘Fast, I agree,’ Kellog said, sounding calm. ‘I expected he would, though this suggests he was tipped off.’

‘Alaina sounded really worried, Kellog.’

There was a short pause and then, ‘I’ll speak to Hanson. Maybe we can bring him in. Protective custody sounds good. I can’t promise anything.’

‘No, but we could try.’

‘I’ll let you know what happens.’ The line went dead.

Westminster, December 16th.

There had been no more calls from Alaina, no sightings of Maxim, and Hanson was looking almost as grim as Nisa was. ‘We have had three people vanish in areas Maxim visited,’ Hanson said. ‘That wouldn’t be a major matter if it was not for the fact that these shadow things have actually been seen around the victims at the time they went missing.’

‘You’re saying they’re getting bolder,’ Kellog said.

‘I’m saying someone claims to have seen… Hang on, let me read… “I saw her shadow just fold into her, like it was being sucked up. And then she just walked away, got in her car, and left. But I swear she had no shadow when she got in her car.”’

‘Some form of possession. That’s how they’re kidnapping them.’

‘That’s what it looks like. Meanwhile, Maxim and Peters have vanished, and I don’t believe they went via possession. Well, him anyway.’ Hanson’s eyes flicked to Nisa, sitting very upright in her seat.

‘If she calls again, I’ll let you know,’ Nisa said. ‘I’ve had no more contact. They were due to get back into the UK tomorrow.’

‘And we have watches on all the ports, air and sea, but…’

‘But he may not come back at all,’ Nisa grumbled. ‘We missed him. If I’d found the connection before he flew out–’

‘We might have been able to grab him, but we would have been wading through the Order and he would have had plenty of time to make a break. You actually spotted the connection. I don’t suppose there’s anything else in that data we should know about?’

‘Huh? Oh… uh… I found some evidence for a slow rise in supernatural activity in the south-west over the course of the last eight months. Barely perceptible and it could be just a random shift.’

‘Any particular part of the south-west?’

‘Mostly coastal areas along the Channel, as far east as Bournemouth. It’s ghostly fog banks, unusual radar echoes, one report of a ghost fishing boat, but the witnesses were so drunk it’s probably nothing.’

‘I’ll call Exeter and mention that we noticed something,’ Hanson said, jotting down a note. ‘Considering what’s happened following your first discovery, I’d rather not take anything else for granted.’

‘Huh. What do these things, or Maxim if he’s behind this, want with these people anyway?’

‘Good question. Thoughts?’ Hanson looked specifically at Kellog and got a shrug.

‘I doubt it’s good. The obvious possibilities are hosts or sacrifices. They may not be able to survive well in their native form. They may need people of a certain type as hosts, or they may need them as sacrifices. Ritual sacrifices often have specific requirements. Either way, I expect we’ll find out soon.’

‘Why?’

‘There’s a correspondence Nisa has missed. It will be the solstice on Sunday. Just after eleven in the evening, to be exact. If Maxim, or anyone else, is planning some form of high-powered, dark ritual, that would be a very auspicious time to conduct it.’

Hanson bit her lip, nodding. ‘Start looking into potential locations for a sacrificial ritual. Maybe we can stake out a few potentials if we don’t spot him sooner.’

‘Difficult without knowing what he plans.’

‘I know. Get Norbery on it too and get me a list. If I have to, I’ll get authorisation to have every potential site in the country watched. I don’t have to be a magician to have a really bad feeling about this.’

December 19th.

Hanson looked a lot like she had had no sleep in the last couple of days, and Nisa could not say she was surprised. Having spent much of the night before sitting up with Faline because sleep just brought weird dreams of dark shapes and voices speaking nonsense, Nisa was not looking rested either.

‘We don’t know how Maxim got into the country,’ Hanson said and then stopped, considering. ‘We don’t know he’s actually here, but we know that we’ve had four people go missing in the last thirty-six hours. Those are the ones that were reported, and before that we got several unexplained disappearances in Germany, Italy, and France.’

‘They’re really bumping up their schedule,’ Nisa said.

‘Quite, and getting less circumspect. There’s a body in autopsy now. Initial suggestion is that he was frozen to death. He was found in bed, covered in a duvet, and the room was at eleven degrees. His wife is missing.’

‘They didn’t kill Lisa May’s husband.’

‘No, but this time they wanted it quick and efficient. Or that’s the assumption.’

‘Regulars handling that?’ Kellog asked.

‘The autopsy. They’ll ship us the body when they’re done and Norbery will check it over.’ Hanson’s gaze flicked to Nisa. ‘You up to trying that spell of yours on the corpse? I know you’re not used to–’

‘I don’t think another body is going to bother me,’ Nisa interrupted. ‘After watching Emily die and then finding Jilly’s parents… I think it’s going to take a while before anything shocks me. I hope anyway.’

‘It’s worth a try. How about that list of potential sites?’

‘We’ve got a few,’ Kellog said. ‘Stonehenge and Avebury are the two most likely. The henge is a little more likely since it’ll be quiet up there by that time. Glastonbury is a possibility. We’ve never established exactly why it’s active and Maxim may know.’

‘I’ll get manpower… Where do you want people distributed?’

‘We’re going to be spread thin. The only advantage we have is that he probably won’t try anything close to home. The Eternal Flame is likely to make it hard to do anything with the energy he can collect from soul sacrifices which makes central London unlikely… But that said, I think I’d prefer it if Nisa stayed here. We should have one person ready to head out if something comes up. I’ll take Stonehenge. Norbery can take Avebury. Can we get Tremain over from Exeter to handle Glastonbury?’

‘I can ask.’ Hanson looked to Nisa. ‘Are you all right with being backup on this? I’m thinking we get a helicopter on standby and we can have you just about anywhere we need you in a few minutes, if it’s close to home anyway.’

Nisa glanced at Kellog. He was, she was sure, trying to keep her away from Maxim, and therefore Alaina, in case what they found was going to provide that shock she had mentioned. He was not sure of her objectivity, which was fair because she was not sure she had any. And it did sound like a good plan… ‘I’ll spend the night here. Think that helicopter could pick me up from the square?’

‘I think it could pick you up from the top of Nelson’s Column if we need it to. Let’s hope we don’t need it to.’

Tower Hamlets, December 21st.

Nisa sat on the sofa, turning the coin she had been given over and over in her fingers. The light had dimmed to almost nothing and she had not noticed it, and it came as something of a surprise when Faline sat down beside her, pressing against her side in a rather cat-like manner even though she had assumed human form.

‘Hey, uh, what time–’

‘It is still early,’ Faline said. ‘I wanted to be sure to see you before you left. You will be careful tonight, won’t you?’

Nisa gave her a grin she was not entirely feeling. ‘I don’t think I need to be. I’m pretty sure everyone is keeping me away from where the big event is going to be. I’d be annoyed, except I’m not sure what I’d do if I was there.’

‘Your best, of course. You should have more confidence in yourself. You spotted the link between the shadows and the disappearances. You should be proud of that.’

‘Didn’t get us very far. Now Alaina’s missing.’

‘It has given you a chance, and undoubtedly disrupted any plans they, or Maxim, have. Now there is every chance that the ritual can be stopped and Alaina can be recovered safely.’ The Witch Cat seemed very firm on that, and who was Nisa to deny her.

‘Okay. That’s what happens then.’

‘Yes. But be careful.’

This time the grin was more genuine. ‘Okay, Faline. I’ll be careful.’

‘See that you are.’

Westminster.

Nisa’s phone buzzed at her as she climbed out of the underground at Charing Cross. She was answering it before she even looked at it, expecting it to be Hanson asking where she was. ‘I’m almost there, I–’

‘N-Nisa? It’s Alaina.’

Nisa stopped at the side of the road. There was not much traffic about late on a Sunday, but it was London, so there was some. ‘Alaina? Where are you? Where’s Maxim?’

‘I… He has… He wants you to come to the Temple, to the Order. Alone. He says he’ll… Don’t come, Nisa! Don’t–’ The line was dead before she got anything else out, and Nisa was left staring across the road at the square.

On the other side of the square was XC, and Hanson, but if she went there and got help… And even if she did, there was only Hanson and Sandra. They could get Kellog and Norbery back by helicopter, but that would take time. And Maxim would know what she was up to and then he would… Something shifted near the column: the shadow of a man was watching from there, but there was no man to cast a shadow. Maxim wanted her to know she was being watched. She turned, heading for the Strand.

What was going on? The one thing everyone had been sure of was that Maxim would not want to be in central London. The Eternal Flame was there, burning with stability. It was, she was sure, responsible for the entire Order not being swallowed up in Glitches, but Maxim was going to perform distinctly black magic in the building which held it? It was a stupid sort of thing to think around magic, but that defied logic. Not that it made much difference.

Okay… walking smartly, she had ten to twelve minutes before she arrived at the Order’s hall. If she called or sent a text, the shadows would see her… There had to be some way of letting people know, but how?

The City.

The front doors of the hall were wide open as Nisa walked up to them, but there were no lights on. The shadow beings did not seem to like the light, which was interesting to know but hardly unexpected. And how was she going to make use of it?

A dim light showed as she stepped into the foyer and she made out the shape of a man, a real, solid man and one she vaguely recognised from the ball. He stood at the back of the foyer holding a shuttered lantern. The way the light flickered suggested it came from a candle, which was either being retro for the sake of it or trying to avoid harming the shadows.

‘Your ring,’ the man said. ‘Take it off, drop it on the floor, and then follow me. Maxim is waiting for you.’

‘Why me?’ Nisa asked, not moving.

‘Ask Maxim. Move or you know what happens.’

She did not, not really, but she imagined it would involve harming Alaina. Besides, she was going to learn nothing and get nowhere by standing where she was. She slipped her ring off her finger and dropped it onto the floor at her feet, and then she followed the man and his dim light into the heart of the building. She could feel the darkness closing in behind her.

‘Where are you taking me?’

‘You’re going to see something only the members of the inner circle normally see. High Masters at least, and only the Grand Masters are allowed regular access.’

‘The Eternal Flame? He’s… he’s doing this in the room with the flame?’

‘Oh yeah.’

‘But that’s impossible.’

‘Not for him. You’ll see. He’s going to change everything.’

Change everything? How could you possibly change everything? Unless… Da’at, Daath, Unreality: she understood it more now than she ever had. It seemed to her that it was less a heretical form of magic that dealt in things which were not meant to be, and more of a… hack. Unreality magic was the backdoor admin controls of the universe, or The System, or whatever reality really was. With it, you could get into the code and change how things were, how reality worked. It was unsurprising that The System and its agents took a dim view.

But the Eternal Flame was anathema to that. It was a source of magical stability. It reinforced more ‘natural’ forms of magic, the things which affected normal objects. It made other forms of magic harder, and it repelled Glitches because Unreality was the raw material of a Glitch. If Maxim wanted to work Unreality magic, right beside the Eternal Flame was the last place he needed to be.

Nevertheless, there they were going down several floors until they were deep under the main building, probably near its centre, and walking into a room which looked to Nisa as though it had been there forever. Perhaps twenty metres across, there had to be around fifty people standing in it, surrounding a small, stone plinth which occupied the centre. The roof was vaulted and made from brick as best Nisa could see. Four brick columns climbed up from a circle about two or three metres in diameter around the plinth; those were there to hold the ceiling up and they looked like the Romans had put them in, but the plinth itself might have been older. It almost seemed as though it had been grown rather than cut. Its shape had just happened rather than being the conscious design of some mason. On top of it was a bowl which looked like it was ceramic, but covered over in metal, probably platinum. Within the bowl the flame burned, blue-white with darker blue flickers dancing in it. Even across the room she could feel the heat from it, but somehow she did not think that the heat was quite the same as any other fire.

‘Marvellous, isn’t it?’ She looked around at the sound of Maxim’s voice. He appeared through the crowd, walking toward her… And that was when she realised that he cast a shadow in the blue light, but none of the other people there did. A glance behind her showed her own, blue-tinted, shadow, and that her guide had left, locking the door behind him. ‘This place was first dug out by men in animal skins, searching for the power they felt was below them. The Romans finished the work, building this room to contain it and hide it. Men have coveted the power of that flame for well over two thousand years, Sergeant Harper.’

‘It’s… very historic. Impressive.’

‘I suppose it is. It’s quite unique. A Glitch, as your colleagues refer to them, which has survived this long in our world because it actually strengthens the mundane reality of this world.’

‘Clever survival trait. You’d almost think there was an intelligence behind it.’ Nisa scanned the room, hunting for Alaina and seeing no sign of her. Where had the bastard put her?

He smiled. ‘There is no intelligence behind this world, Nisa. No “System” to keep us on the straight and narrow. It’s all a fiction.’

‘I’ve seen–’

‘A fiction!’ Maxim roared, no longer the reasonable man in the expensive suit. ‘A fiction designed to manipulate us and keep us from disturbing their precious status quo. I know. I’ve seen. I’ve spoken with the shadows and I know there is a world to be made where magic is the ruling force.’

‘And you’d be the ruler of the ruling force. Sure. Where’s Alaina?’

He smiled. Nisa did not like that smile. Not one bit. ‘Ah yes, I was forgetting. You came to save your poor, sweet Alaina. Alaina!’

The shout produced a figure from the back of the room where she seemed to have been hiding behind as many of the shadow-possessed people as she could. Now, however, she pulled herself up straight and walked toward them, and Nisa knew right there that she had been made a fool of. There was the strut, the smile which teetered between amused and arrogant, and there was the choice of garment, which was little more than a silk teddy, heavy on the lace, and a pair of black high-heeled pumps. This was not someone under duress… but there was something wrong with her.

‘Alaina has not been Alaina for quite some time,’ Maxim said. ‘She was a sweet thing, innocent. I enjoyed corrupting her sufficiently that I could use her as the host for my demon.’

‘She’s possessed?’ Nisa whispered.

‘Really,’ Alaina said, ‘you might as well say that you fell for a demon. Alaina Peters is so far gone now I doubt she’ll ever be able to cope with it if I left her. I am Alaina.’ She looked at Maxim. ‘Can we get on with this? That fucking flame burns, even from here.’

Maxim took a pocket watch from his jacket and flipped it open, peering at it. ‘Yes, of course. We need to be moving on if we’re to have everything ready for the moment of the solstice. Hold her.’

Nisa’s eyes widened. ‘What–’ But two pairs of strong arms grabbed her and pulled her back toward the door, pressing her against the wood. ‘What are you going to do, Maxim?’ she yelled at him. ‘What’s going on? Why am I here?’

And then Alaina was standing in front of her, a finger tracing a line over Nisa’s chin, sliding smoothly from her ear to the tip. ‘The Eternal Flame is a Glitch. It’s a little piece of Daath which has found a way to exist in this reality for far longer than most of them. But… it can be flipped, transformed. He’s going to transform it into the shape it was meant to be, reverse it. It probably won’t last long then, but it’ll be long enough. With the boost the transformed flame will give, we’ll be able to change the world.’

‘And the shadows, me?’

‘The shadows are left over from some past world, and they want to be real again. They’ll help him control the fire. You… Well, you’re here for the same reason these people are. We need power and your soul is just… Mmmm… There’s something just so fresh and sweet about it. We’ll burn your soul in the new fire and change the world.’ She smiled. ‘Of course, you won’t be alive to worry about that.’

‘Thanks. Great comfort.’ Nisa swallowed and wondered whether her message had got through.

Salisbury Plain.

‘I can see the helicopter now,’ Kellog said into his phone. ‘You’re sure about this? If you’re wrong…’

‘I have no idea how she did it,’ Hanson said, ‘but I got a single, clear image of the Order’s building. Nisa hasn’t arrived here and there’s not a lot of time before eleven. I even called Faline to check Nisa had left there.’

‘Yes, but, the Flame is there and–’

‘And,’ Hanson interrupted, ‘Nisa’s ring is off her hand.’

‘Oh.’

‘Right. So you get on that chopper with your squad and you go straight to the hall and you shoot your way in if you have to!’

The City.

Nisa had no idea what all the Latin meant, but she could see that it seemed to be having some effect. As Maxim chanted what sounded like a relatively repetitive, if complex, series of phrases, the people standing closer to the plinth in the centre of the room were changing. She saw them slump forward, staggering briefly, and then rallying. But each one that was hit seemed to have a dark, shadowy halo around them afterwards, and Maxim seemed to be glowing more and more strongly with each person changed.

Nisa began to struggle, but her captors were strong and held her firm. He was killing them; Alexander Maxim was sucking the souls from people’s bodies and drawing the power into himself. And each one he destroyed was another blade of ice in Nisa’s heart. ‘He’s killing them! Let me… go!’

Alaina’s hand gripped her jaw. ‘Do you think you can stop him? Even if you get free, do you believe you can do anything to stop him? He needs your soul, but I can cripple your body without killing you. Be still and let him work.’

Nisa looked up at the demon who wore the face of the woman she loved, or thought she loved. Either way, Alaina did not deserve to be the puppet of something from Hell, or whatever side-reality the thing had come from. She felt anger flare and an image formed in her mind. She saw the pattern the coin had shown her, the pattern of the mind, and she turned it and followed it down to the right point in the path, and her will flexed and pushed energy into it.

‘Eat this, bitch,’ Nisa muttered and let the spell go. It was easy; she knew that the Eternal Flame still burning in the centre of the room was helping her, and she had hopes that it would help her further.

Alaina’s eyes widened. ‘What are you…? No!’ And then she collapsed, her eyes rolling back as her knees folded and she dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. But there was still something standing there, its hand on Nisa’s chin before it staggered back from her. It was little more than a shape, a haze of dust and energy in the form of a woman, but that shape was changing as the demon lost hold of the shape it had been wearing for years.

Nisa saw lights flash where the thing’s eyes would be. A feral, shark-toothed mouth opened in a vicious grin. ‘I’m betting,’ Nisa said, ‘that you can’t take that flame long enough to do squat to me.’ The demon reached forward, mouth opening in a scream of rage, and then vanished, blowing away as though a sudden gust of wind had caught it.

The two shadow-slaves holding Nisa seemed to be perfectly happy to ignore the demon’s demise. Alaina was breathing, but unmoving, on the brick floor, and Maxim seemed oblivious. His voice rose to a crescendo and…

A shudder seemed to run through the entire room and Nisa felt the hands on her arms slacken briefly. Something had changed, but she was not sure what until she realised the light was getting dimmer. Looking in toward the Flame on its plinth, she could see… It seemed as though the shadows were being drawn out of the front rows of hosts and pushed in. The mass of darkness was shielding the fire, dimming it, enveloping it, and it did not really seem to be doing the shadow things much good.

She felt the figures holding her tensing. The grips on her arms became painful as the creatures within the humans reacted to what was happening further into the room. More ranks of shadows were pulled out of their hosts to add to the shield around the Flame, and Maxim kept up his chant which, Nisa realised, had changed now. He had done with the gathering of energy and this new chant was changing something. He was changing the Flame and he needed the shadows to smother it, but it did not look like that was going to leave many of the shadows intact. As Nisa watched, she could see the closer ones burning, fragmenting in the unnatural heat of the Eternal Flame. But they were winning. Slowly, Maxim was forcing them in to smother the fire.

There was an instant of darkness and then the world seemed to explode. Nisa hit the door, pain shooting through her head. It took her several seconds to realise that she was free. Her captors were now collapsed on the floor around her, and the shadows which had animated them seemed to have gone. No, she realised, not gone. She could see shadows which should not have been there, lying tumbled among other shadows cast by the light of…

The Eternal Flame had changed. As soon as Nisa got her eyes to focus on it, she knew that. The darker blues in the flame were far more prominent, yet the light seemed just as bright, maybe even more intense. Flickers of darkness like dust motes rose in the flames and then above them, and the reason for those began to become clear as she saw part of the bowl crumble, burn, and rise into the air.

Maxim’s voice had changed, his chanting becoming wilder, more exultant, and the words were different. It was still Latin, and Nisa still had no idea what he was saying, but the Flame had been changed so this was the end game. He was about to change the world, and he would use the remaining bodies as fuel for that. Across the room, looking scared now that her shadow-possessor was gone, Nisa spotted Lisa May and knew, just knew, that she had to save this one. Lisa Anne May with her short stories and her articles on HRT. There was no way she was going to be allowed to go the same way Emily Copper had.

The shadows were moving now, gathering and crawling toward Maxim. Whether he had expected them all to die trying to change the Flame or he did not care about them, he was ignoring them and seemed oblivious as they began slashing at his legs. None seemed strong enough to harm him, or even distract him, but the light was not affecting them now, even though it seemed to be growing brighter. Nisa risked a look at it and saw a shimmer of bright energy sliding into it, the body it had come from falling behind it. Maxim was feeding it souls to burn, strengthening the Unreality of it, the Da’at energy, with every person he destroyed.

Da’at. Unreality. The keys to The System’s codebase. Maxim was amassing more and more of that power right in front of her. He was going to use it to make the whole world believe in magic and, in so doing, probably doom it to destruction. The demons… The thing in Alaina had likely been sent to assist because a world full of magic would be a world ripe for the demons to harvest. The shadows had wanted it to unlock a more natural form for themselves, and Maxim had used them and cast them aside. They were even weaker than before… but they were unreal, in a room full of Unreality, and they wanted revenge.

Nisa summoned up the pattern of Unreality in her mind, swept through its twisting form of aberrant angles and straight lines which twisted like corkscrews, and drove power into it as she found the right part, the place which would weaken the world’s denial of the existence of the shadow things, and she cast it out across the room.

Blackness rose up from the ground around Maxim. Dark hands reached for him, and this time he did notice. There was a shriek, cutting off his chant in a strangled cry of pain. ‘No!’ He screamed, staggering back from the plinth and fighting to bring his focus back, to control the energy which was now dancing wildly in the centre of the room. Nisa could see the bowl degrading faster and guessed that when it finally went entirely, the Eternal Flame would be no more. And then… Then what?

Maxim reached out and Nisa saw Lisa stiffen. He had regained enough control to try to use her. Whether he was continuing the spell or planning to drive back the shadows with her soul energy, Nisa did not care.

Running forward, Nisa pushed through the staggered figures around the plinth, pulled up the image of Unreality in her mind, and then plunged her hand into the writhing mass of energy. The pain was incredible: numbing cold enveloped her, feeling as though it was stripping the skin from her hand in a gale-force blast of ice crystals, but at the same time every nerve in her fingers was being heated to a billion degrees. She thought she screamed, maybe, but it did not matter. She could see the Unreality pattern in her mind igniting into flame. Flickers of blue, red, and gold danced along the silver strands and wrapped around her mind, and she was nothing more than a conduit for the power of The System and its deepest code.

She saw Maxim then, standing in front of her, his hands wringing the front of her shirt as he screamed at her. What was he saying? Something about being a fool. He probably meant that she was, but it did not really matter. She reached out and placed her hand in the middle of his chest, fingers spread. ‘Go to Hell,’ she said, her voice clear and soft in her ears, almost a whisper but ringing out through reality.

There was a sound like the popping of a soap bubble which echoed through the whole of reality.

~~~

There was no one to stop Kellog or his squad of armed police officers running into the hall, but there was no light and no power. There was a feeling like absolute dread which seemed to be soaking up through the stones as they pushed inwards, torchlights illuminating narrow areas of ancient masonry. Kellog spotted Nisa’s ring on the stone and picked it up: obviously she was here and probably not alone. The others seemed oblivious to the uneasy quality of the air and acted as they normally did on these operations, competent with some natural nervousness, but Kellog could feel the tension building.

He glanced at his watch. Twenty-three-zero-one, two minutes before the exact moment of the solstice. If Maxim was going for optimum timing, he would aim to complete whatever he was planning right then.

‘We need to go down,’ Kellog snapped. ‘We need to find the flame room. He’ll be–’

All of them heard it, even the ones with no magical talent at all. It was a woman’s voice and it echoed through the building as though it had been screamed out through a sound system built for an open-air rock concert. Three words: ‘Go to Hell.’ And then a shudder ran through the entire building. Stone creaked and dust fell from the ceiling.

‘Holy shit,’ one of the officers said. ‘Bomb?’

‘We could hope it was,’ Kellog replied. ‘Come on. We need to move. This way.’ He ran, finding the stairway down from memory and not slowing as he charged down the stone steps which had been there since the Middle Ages, leading down to the ones which had been there longer. There were a couple of unconscious men near the door to the chamber and Kellog ordered them cuffed before he unlocked the door and pushed inside.

There were a lot of people in the room, and it looked as though a lot of them were dead or dying, but not all. They looked shocked and confused, for the most part. He saw Lisa Anne May standing beside the stone plinth in the centre of the room. She looked scared, confused, but okay, but the fact that the plinth was just sitting there with no flame atop it was what drew his attention. He almost tripped over Alaina Peters, still unconscious, on the floor near the door as he moved inward, and then he spotted Nisa.

She was leaning on the plinth, her legs folded under her as she sat, cradling her left hand, which looked reddened and sore, not quite burned, but not exactly healthy. Her eyes were closed.

Kellog turned to the leader of the squad. ‘Sergeant, get these people out of here. Hanson should have the place isolated. Get everyone into quarantine until Norbery can get here.’

‘Sir,’ the man replied, nodding and setting about his work.

Kellog turned back and moved forward, slipping his pistol into its holster before he crouched down beside Nisa. ‘Nisa? Sergeant Harper? Can you hear me?’

Nisa’s eyes opened and she looked up at him. ‘My hand stings like fuck.’

‘Right.’

‘Hanson got the message then?’

‘She did. Quick thinking, but I’d like to know why you needed to think quickly.’

‘He had Alaina. Except she was possessed. I needed to get here. Did I mention my hand hurts? I stuck it in the fire to draw the energy out.’

Kellog realised he was probably not going to get too much out of her right now. She looked almost as confused as the other people in the room. ‘Where’s Maxim?’ he tried.

‘He was going to change the world,’ Nisa replied, closing her eyes again. ‘He was going to make everything different. He wanted to rule the world, so he wanted the whole world to believe in magic. I think I took his magic and made the world not believe in him. I locked him out of reality, sent him out of The System with the shadows. I need to sleep now.’

He watched her head sag forward and frowned. It could have been Nisa’s voice they had heard. It had been a voice commanding someone to ‘go to Hell’ and Maxim was gone. She had taken the Daath magic Maxim had been forging and turned it around on him, which was technically about as big a crime as creating it in the first place. Somehow Kellog felt they would be able to justify it.

‘Remind me not to piss you off, Nisa,’ Kellog muttered, and then he picked her up, making sure her left arm was supported in her lap, and started for the door.

Epilogue

Westminster, London, December 23rd, 2014.

The pain in her hand had subsided and, despite what had seemed like a tremendous display of magical power, Norbery’s instruments were showing little in the way of Probrum coming from Nisa. They had observed and tested. They had prodded and poked. As far as anyone could tell, and Hanson had even called in a couple of external advisors, Nisa was quite healthy with no visible sign of after-effects from…

And there things got difficult. Nisa had regained enough sense to make her report. Kellog had not been happy about her decision to go in after Alaina, but Maxim would undoubtedly have begun his ritual without her and probably completed it before he could have been stopped. The shadow things would have presented a real problem for an assault team, so there would have been no guarantee of success with one of those backing her up. He had to admit that she had done the best she could with a bad situation.

Hanson had agreed that turning Maxim’s power on him was technically bad, but practically the build-up of Daath energy would have presented a significant problem and using it for something had meant that it was not around to, say, make the whole of central London vanish into nothing.

Alaina was another matter. ‘She’s alive and, physically, quite well,’ Norbery said as Nisa watched her girlfriend through an observation window. ‘Mentally she’s a mess. You seem to have helped her a bit when you obliterated Maxim. She doesn’t really seem to remember much of the possession, but she’s lost about four years of her life and there’s a lot of psychological damage. She doesn’t remember what the demon did with her body, but it’s like it’s still affecting her mind. She only sleeps when we sedate her.’

‘Nightmares?’ Nisa asked.

‘Yes. Quite violent ones.’

‘I can empathise. What’ll happen to her?’

‘There’s a psychiatric unit we use. There are a couple of specialists there who are aware of exceptional cases like hers.’

‘So they won’t treat her as nuts because she thinks she was possessed by a demon.’

‘No, they’ll treat her as nuts because she was.’

~~~

‘What’s happening at the Order?’ Nisa asked as she attended her second debriefing meeting in Hanson’s office.

‘The Hermetic Order of the Eternal Flame is without its Eternal Flame,’ Hanson replied. ‘All work there has been called off until they can either properly ward the place, which could easily take years, or they find a new property. They relied on the power of the Flame to ward off Glitches and any Bugs in the area. Now it’s basically a magnet for all sorts of problems.’

‘Huh. I’m finding it hard to feel sorry for them.’

‘Indeed. We’ve found little evidence of collusion between Maxim and the majority of members, but there may have been others involved in his plot.’

‘I’m quite sure there were,’ Kellog said. ‘It would be unlike him to go into something like this without someone to blame if it was discovered, and he would need more than just Alaina Peters to handle the logistics. He managed to keep almost fifty people locked up under the building for several weeks, months in some cases.’

‘And he smuggled victims in from overseas,’ Hanson agreed. ‘We’re digging, but they’re fighting back. They don’t want the scandal. They’re already pressing to have you brought up on charges, Nisa, for destroying the Flame, would you believe?’

‘Maxim did that,’ Nisa grumbled. ‘It was starting to burn itself out as soon as he changed it.’

‘They claim such a working is impossible and they have several people willing to prove it. He can’t have turned the Flame the way you say he did, so you are lying.’

‘Then how, exactly, did I destroy the thing? Surely that would be as hard? Actually, screw that, I know it would be just as hard and I think I could write down the mathematical proof.’

‘That might be a good idea,’ Hanson told her, but her eyebrows had gone up. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard of anyone writing down magic using mathematics.’

‘You haven’t dealt with a reality hacker before. How are the people who survived the shadows? How’s Lisa May?’

‘Good point. Reality hacking is new. And they seem to be fine. They were confused about where they were, but their memories of what happened to them seem to have vanished along with the shadows.’

‘Daath effects can be like that,’ Kellog put in. ‘Where The System can adjust, it can wipe the memories of something out of existence. At least for those people, the Shadow Men did not exist, and all they had to worry over was what had happened to them.’

Hanson nodded. ‘We’ve managed to persuade them that they were drugged and kidnapped by a terrorist cell. That’s been the cover for the operation and the Order is going along with it to keep their own secrets. However, considering how the Order’s old guard are reacting to all this, specifically you, Nisa, I think it might be wise to get you out of London for a while. I think you could use the break and we can get you back here if business picks up.’

‘I have a number of books I think it would be useful for you to read,’ Kellog added, his lips almost curling. ‘You’ll be quite busy, and you can still access and file reports using your laptop.’

‘Thanks. Were you thinking of sending me anywhere in particular?’

‘Consider it a holiday,’ Hanson suggested. ‘Medical leave anyway. Norbery thinks you may find yourself worrying over what happened more than you realise. Take a month. Go somewhere pretty, with lots of fresh air.’

‘I think I might know just the place,’ Nisa replied.

Tower Hamlets.

‘Faline? Faline, are you human?’

Faline threw open the bedroom door, stepped through, and took off over the back of the sofa in a display of very cat-like agility for a human-shaped Witch Cat, and then she was hugging Nisa before she had got more than a foot into the room.

‘I’m going to take that as a yes,’ Nisa said, grinning.

‘I was worried. Your boss, Hanson, called as soon as she knew Kellog had found you. She knew I’d be worried since she called to see if you’d left.’

‘Nice of her.’ Nisa had not considered Hanson the kind to worry over the mental state of a Bug, but there she was doing so.

‘And then Mister Norbery called after he examined you.’

‘So you know I’m okay.’

‘Yes. I am exceptionally happy that I will not need to find myself another new owner so soon.’

‘You will if you puncture a lung when you break my ribs.’

Blushing, Faline backed off. ‘I was sorry to hear about Alaina.’

Nisa bit at her lips and considered for a second, taking the time to put her bag down and settle onto the sofa. ‘I’m not sure what to do about her. If she stays nuts it won’t be a problem, I guess, but if she recovers… The woman they’re putting in the sanatorium isn’t the one who was my wife or the one I got to know here.’ She shrugged. ‘Cross that bridge when I need to. Now, how do you fancy a holiday?’

Sinking onto the sofa beside Nisa, Faline blinked and then frowned. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Hanson wants me out of London for a while. The Order is throwing threats around and she wants me out of the way.’

‘Okay…’

‘So I thought we could go visit Trina.’

‘We could?’

‘Well… yeah. Trina already knows and she’s living in a little cottage her aunt rents out in the summer, so there’s room for all three of us, and I can’t leave you here on your own. Trina says it’ll be fine having a house-trained cat in the cottage, and–’

‘You’ve already spoken to her?’

‘Yeah, on the way home. You… don’t want to come?’

‘I… I’ve never really been outside of London, Nisa. And I don’t think anyone’s ever actually considered taking me along when they left the city.’

‘Well… I am. Are you coming or not?’

Faline grinned, leaned forward, and gave Nisa a kiss on the cheek. ‘Very well, why not. Let’s go have a nice, quiet holiday in Cornwall.’

###

About the Author

I was born in the vicinity of Hadrian's Wall so perhaps a bit of history rubbed off. Ancient history obviously, and border history, right on the edge of the Empire. I always preferred the Dark Ages anyway; there’s so much more room for imagination when people aren’t writing down every last detail. So my idea of a good fantasy novel involved dirt and leather, not shining plate armour and Hollywood-medieval manners. The same applies to my sci-fi, really; I prefer gritty over shiny.

Oddly, then, one of the first fantasy novels I remember reading was The Dark Is Rising, by Susan Cooper (later made into a terrible juvenile movie). These days we would call Cooper’s series Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy and looking back on it, it influenced me a lot. It has that mix of modern day life, hidden history, and magic which failed to hit popular culture until the early days of Buffy and Anne Rice. Of course, Cooper’s characters spend their time around places I could actually visit in Cornwall, and South East England, and mid-Wales. In fact, when I went to university in Aberystwyth, it was partially because some of Cooper’s books were set a few miles to the north around Tywyn.

I got into writing through roleplaying, however, so my early work was related to the kind of roleplaying game I was interested in. I wrote science fiction when I was playing Traveller. I wrote “high fantasy” when I was playing Dungeons & Dragons. I wrote a lot of superhero fiction when I was playing City of Heroes. I still love the idea of a modern world with magic in it and I’ve been trying to write a novel based on this for a long time. As with any form of expression, practice is the key and I can look back on all the aborted attempts at books, and the more successful short stories, as steps along the path to the Thaumatology Series.

Recently I took the big step of quitting my day job and taking up full-time writing. My favourite authors are Terry Pratchett, Susan Cooper, J.D. Robb, and Kim Harrison. Kim’s Hollows books were what finally spurred me to publish something, even if the trail to here came by way of Susan, back in school, several decades ago.

For More Information

Take a look at the Witches and Ray-guns blog: http://witchesandrayguns.wordpress.com

Other Books by this Author

Amazon US: amazon.com/author/niallteasdale

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B006J6II9O

The Thaumatology Series

Thaumatology 101

Demon’s Moon

Legacy

Dragon’s Blood

Disturbia

Hammer of Witches

Eagle’s Shadow

Ancient

Dragonfall

The Other Side of Hell

For Whom the Wedding Bells Toll

Vengeance

Anthologies in the Thaumatology Universe

Tales from High Towers’ Study

Tales from the Dubh Linn

The Aneka Jansen Books

Steel Beneath The Skin

The Cold Steel Mind

Steel Heart

The Winter War

The Greatest Heights of Honour

The Lowest Depths of Shame

Hope

The Ultrahuman Books

Ugly

Shadows

The Unobtainium Books

Kate on a Hot Tin Roof

The Fox Meridian Books

Fox Hunt – coming August 2015, available for pre-order in selected retailers.

Table of Contents

Part One: Rabbit Hole

Part Two: Faline

Part Three: The City Of Shadows

Part Four: Demon

Part Five: Alchemy

Part Six: The Real World

Part Seven: The Skin We’re In

Part Eight: When Everything Changes

Epilogue