‘Home,’ Brutus said with more than a hint of imperious command. It was more like a smack-you-in-the-face-before-bringing-you-to-your-knees imperious command.

‘Believe me, that’s what I’m planning to do.’

There was a strange clunking sound in the background then I heard Eve’s muffled voice. ‘Brutus? Princess? What is that smell?’

My eyes narrowed. What smell?

‘Miaow,’ Brutus said. Then he hung up.

I ground my teeth. Why, that little… I hissed under my breath. Every moment he got, he complained. Goodness only knew how he was treating Eve or what the smell was that she was referring to. If he thought he was getting his Friday tuna treat now, he was sadly mistaken. Although at least now I was thinking about something other than Clare Rees and her family. I had a sneaking suspicion that Brutus had somehow known how I was feeling and had called me to take my mind off things, but that was crazy. Then the phone rang again and, without looking at the screen, I answered.

‘Brutus, how on earth can you get your paws to dial the number?’ I asked. ‘And what is that smell Eve was talking about? Have you been peeing in the corner?’

‘Certainly not,’ Winter said. ‘I used the toilet and I even put the lid down afterwards.’ He paused for a moment. ‘Has Brutus been phoning you?’ he enquired. ‘That cat is bloody amazing.’

That cat is bloody annoying; I think that’s why I love him. I shook my head in exasperation and changed the subject. ‘I think that Blackbeard sent Clare’s parents a postcard and pretended it was from her. He was desperate that no one knew she’d disappeared.’

Winter’s answer was grim. ‘Unfortunately that’s what we’re discovering as well. The police have agreed to the embargo, not least because steps have been taken to conceal the disappearance of the other coven members too. And all their houses are booby-trapped in exactly the same manner as Clare’s. Blackbeard means serious business.’

I grimaced. ‘There’s more.’ I told him about Tarquin visiting the Rees’ family.

Winter drew in a breath. ‘How does that boy manage to sneak his way into everything? And why?’

‘He has a particularly annoying and peculiar skill set,’ I agreed. ‘We need to talk to him.’

‘Agreed. We should also see if we can get hold of your friend Iqbal. He has proved himself incredibly helpful in the past when it comes to research. The way that Blackbeard is managing to avoid magic concerns me. If anyone knows how he’s capable of that, it’ll be Iqbal.’

‘It sounds like we need to skedaddle back to Oxford.’

Winter agreed. ‘The police and Arcane Branch have everything under control here. It’ll take some time to defuse all the traps because they’re trying to do it quietly so that Blackbeard isn’t alerted.’

I ran a hand through my hair. ‘He’s not just one step ahead of us, Rafe,’ I said quietly. ‘He’s several miles in front. And we both know that I’m no runner.’

‘It’s not just you on his tail, Ivy, or me. Between the Order, the coven’s families and the police, we’ll catch this bastard before the week is out.’

Winter was trying to sound confident but I knew him too well. Both of us were feeling the strain – and the doubt. Maybe Blackbeard was just too good. And if his only clear motive was to kill witches, where could we go from here? There were thousands of witches across the country and Blackbeard could be targeting any of them. Talking to the dead was all well and good, but so far the ghosts had only proved helpful in offering glimpses into the past. We were all going to have to step up our game.

***

We made it back home in record time. It was a measure of how seriously Winter was taking things that he didn’t comment after I magically encouraged several cars to come to mysterious halts so we could overtake them and get back that little bit quicker. Using magic against vehicles could play havoc with their engines but none of them exploded, so I decided my spells were a resounding success.

Winter wasn’t the only one being encouraging. More than one ghost waved enthusiastically as we zipped past. I suppose I should have been cheered by all this support from the dead but I wished they’d leave me in peace.

Winter bounded up the stairs to Tarquin’s flat while I waited for the lift, explaining that I should probably make sure that Brutus wasn’t gnawing on Eve’s cooling corpse. When I stepped out onto my floor, however, I could already hear Winter’s barrage of questions from the floor above.

‘What were you doing in Weymouth? How did you know the Rees family? Did you speak to Clare? Have you been annoying Ivy again? If you do anything to set back her recovery even slightly, I will serve your head up to my cat on a platter.’

I smiled at the last part. Given the anger rippling through Winter’s voice, not to mention Tarquin’s propensity for being the most irritating witch this side of the yellow brick road, I decided I should join them and make sure no blood was spilled.

Tarquin, bizarrely, was bare-chested except for a heavily embroidered waistcoat. He was smiling at Winter in a way designed to encourage violence. Before he met me, Raphael Winter always managed to present himself as a slightly standoffish and occasionally offensive witch – and one with absolute control over his emotions. I wasn’t the same person I had been back then and neither was he. Usually that was a good thing – but not always.

Rather than answering any of the questions, Tarquin’s gaze switched to me as I came up the stairs. He loped towards me and stretched out his arms, trying to draw me into a tight embrace. What he didn’t yet know was that I could perform magic safely again. I flicked out a surreptitious rune that I doubted even Winter would notice.

Tarquin drew in a sharp breath and stepped back, dropping his arms; otherwise he didn’t react. ‘What’s the problem?’ he asked. There was a faint squeak in his voice.

‘You were in Dorset recently,’ Winter said, folding his arms. ‘Weymouth, to be exact.’

Tarquin suddenly looked bored. ‘I’ve been in a lot of places recently. The folks in Human Resources can’t seem to let go of the fact that I’m now in Arcane Branch and they keep demanding my time.’ He shrugged and examined his fingernails. ‘I can’t help it if every other witch in HR is incompetent and they need me to do their work for them.’

More like Arcane Branch had quickly realised Tarquin was incompetent and were trying to palm him back on his original bosses. Rather than say that, I focused on what was important. Go me – I could be the bigger witch after all. ‘What work are you doing exactly?’

‘Pre-entrance interviews for mature non-Order witches who wish to gain entrance to our esteemed establishment,’ he said. He looked at me archly. ‘If you want to join the Order, Ivy, I promise to treat you fairly and in the same manner as the others. I won’t automatically turn you down just because I know how to make you scream in the sack.’ Beside me, Winter stiffened. I nudged him with my elbow. I was by his side, not Tarquin’s.

My floppy-haired foe continued. ‘And I won’t automatically add you to our ranks either. We are a merit-based organisation, as I’m sure you know. If you can prove yourself to me, I’ll consider your application.’

From anyone else it would have sounded as if they were taking the piss, but Tarquin managed to sound sincere. It took everything I had for me not to burst into giggles. Insults would slide off his glossy exterior; laughing at him meant he’d refuse to talk to me for a month. Normally that would be a good thing but, with Winter no longer in the Order, we needed Tarquin on our side if we were going to find out the information we wanted.

Winter, speaking through gritted teeth, stared at him. ‘You make the decision whether new witches are allowed into the Order?’

‘New old witches,’ Tarquin said. ‘And yes, that responsibility is mine. It is a heavy burden, I admit, but someone has to step up to the proverbial plate and take charge.’

I tilted my head. ‘Let me guess,’ I said drily. ‘You talk to the applicants and make notes, which are then passed to someone else. Someone who makes the final decision.’