Page 11 of Dark Desire
“No!” I shook my head. “Everything was the same as it always was. So this happened…today? After I left the church?”
“Our report came in at around ten in the morning. Someone passing the church noticed the grave and reported it. Thankfully, Mr Tippel’s remains appear to be undisturbed, but we have cordoned off the crime scene and will need to bring in the forensic team to collect and examine any potential physical evidence. Meanwhile, we must insist that you stay elsewhere.”
“What?” I shrieked. No, I couldn’t stay elsewhere. Everything I owned was in that church, and I’d spent weeks meticulously casting protection wards and my own defence magic to keep out anyone who wanted to cause me harm. It was the only place I felt safe. Fuck!
“She can stay with me.” Evie stood up and moved to stand beside me, placing her hand on my trembling shoulder. This couldn’t be real. Where the hell was the fae? Doubt began to creep into my mind. Maybe he was alive and had crawled out. A shiver ran down my spine. No. No one could survive being buried under that dirt all night. The grave was okay this morning; I even checked it as I walked past. But it just didn’t make any sense…
“Okay then.” Officer Mawdly’s deep voice pulled me back into the room, which I swear was beginning to spin. “Before we go, can I ask what is with the hanging twigs and crystals you have placed around the church?”
“Oh,” I giggled nervously. “I am very spiritual. They are used to warn away evil spirits and welcome good ones. I know, not everyone believes in that stuff but living with the dead in the back garden, I wanted to make sure they didn’t see me as a threat.”
“Like ghosts, you mean?” PC Blaid asked.
“Spirits. Yes.”
“And you don’t practise any spiritual rituals? Anything that might require you to tamper with a grave?”
My mouth dropped open. “No!”
“Harry, honestly! This is unbelievable! Of course Darcie didn’t dig up that grave. She’s been here with me the whole day!”
“Well, we do not have a time as to when the crime was committed, only that it was reported this morning. Until we have gathered any further evidence, we are just questioning suspects.”
“So I am a suspect?” I gasped.
“Oh, come on! A suspect of what? Moving a pile of mud?” Evie scoffed.
“The desecration of a grave is a serious offence,” Harry argued, turning to his ex-wife. “This kind of damage could carry a three-month imprisonment and up to £2,500 fine.”
“I didn’t do it!” I stuttered, even though technically I did much worse. “Can I at least go back and get some clothes?”
“PC Blaid can escort you back now, but you need to be prompt. We will be in touch. I see this is upsetting for you, Miss Knightsbridge, but don’t worry—if you are innocent, as you claim, I am confident we will find out who did this. If you remember anything, no matter how small, please get in touch.”
I bobbed my head because I wasn’t sure what else to do. Evie gave me a quick hug, and I followed PC Blaid outside as she led me to her police car. Locals stopped and stared, open-mouthedor gossiping, as I climbed into the back feeling as though I had committed a crime.
I mean, I had killed a man. But it was self-defence. He was sent to kill me. What was I supposed to do? But the bigger question was, where the hell was that dead man now? And who the hell moved him?
As we began to drive through the narrow streets, I looked out the window at all the spectators who had travelled down for the festival. One familiar face in particular caught my eye. The small, gaunt old woman standing on her doorstep made eye contact with me and smiled. But it wasn’t a warm reassurance. It was a smile full of victory. A smile of malice.
Beryl Dorestone looked delighted to see me in the back of a police car. My eyes cast down at the numerous placards stacked outside her cottage, ready to be handed out to the festival-goers. My nostrils flared when I read the one on the very top.
Burn the witch.
Chapter Five
Beacons lit the narrow streets throughout the town, illuminating the beautiful greenery, flowers, and flags that zig-zagged from building to building, creating an enchanting backdrop to the celebrations. Shoulder-to-shoulder with spectators, I could hardly move of my own free will and instead found myself pushed and pulled along with the torch-lit procession. Most of the locals were dressed in traditional, elaborate masks of animal skulls, others as evil, devil-like creatures, and a few in pretty Venetian styles. The sound of excitement and laughter crackled in the air, floating above the music as we followed behind the locals who were taking part in the Cornish guise dancing towards the port. I had to hand it to St Wythren. They knew how to throw a party.
“Are you sure you want to be here?” Evie shouted in my ear, stumbling slightly when someone pushed her forward. “I know today has been stressful. I wouldn’t mind if you decided to stay in with a glass of wine and watch trashy soaps with me instead.”
I smiled, my eyes lifting towards the low-hanging full moon that shimmered over the bay. “No. This is a perfect distraction.”
I still couldn’t understand what had happened to that fae’s body. I half-hoped he had somehow survived and dug himself out because the alternative was far worse. That someone knew I buried him there and was messing with me, trying to frame me. I suspected the little old woman who hated my guts, but there was no way she could have moved the body herself. And if they were trying to get me arrested, why not just call the cops and tell them I killed a man and buried him in that grave? It didn’t make any sense.
A shiver ran down my spine. I turned my head from left to right, feeling that all-too-familiar sensation that I was being watched. There were so many people out tonight, most in disguise, that even if I was being watched, I’d never find them. I exhaled deeply and forced my shoulders back. I reminded myself that I was no longer scared. I could handle myself. I’d given up running and accepted my fate. Just not yet. I had to survive a little longer. If everything went to plan tonight, then they could come for me whenever they fucking liked, and I wouldn’t even put up a fight anymore.
We reached the walled port, and right at the end was a huge bonfire, the orange flames raging high against the black night. Evie tugged me through the crowd towards the front, where a stage had been set up for the performers, and my heart galloped in my chest as I felt the heat of those flames licking at my skin. Fixating on the fire, I fell into a daze, reliving terrifying memories that suddenly fluttered through my mind—of a creature, unlike anything I had ever seen, being magically bound to a burning cottage. I could still hear his deafening roars through razor-sharp fangs as black flames climbed his body. I gulped, blinking rapidly, and pulled myself back to the present. A man wearing a dark brown robe and a white mask stepped onto the stage, causing the audience to fall silent.
“Welcome, residents of St Wythren’s Cove. Tonight, on this winter solstice, we rid ourselves of our sins, evil, and the shadows of our darkest night. When this night is over, it marks a new beginning. A blessing to us all.” The man’s captivating voice boomed through the air and everyone cheered. I glanced around, my eyes still searching, but for what, I wasn’t sure. At some point, I would need to pick my moment to slip away. It was unfortunate that I had to stay at Evie’s place tonight and would have to lose her in the crowds so I could disappear to conduct my spell. But failing tonight was out of the question. Determination powered through me and caused me to stand straighter.
