Page 10 of Spirit Witch
Winter held up his hand. ‘Not any longer. As I’m sure you know.’
His buddy was bolder. ‘And I’m sureyouknow, sir, that we cannot allow you to enter unless you have an appointment.’ He made a show of checking his watch. ‘I think visiting hours are over.’
‘Of course, of course,’ Winter murmured. He showed them an envelope. ‘I wanted to leave this for the Ipsissimus. I promised him I’d bring it over.’
The witch’s lip curled. ‘And you thought you’d drop it off now?’ His implication was obvious – Winter was too scared to come by at a sane hour. He wanted to make sure he avoided bumping into any former colleagues. What the witch didn’t realise was that Winter didn’t suffer from any ego issues.
‘I did.’ Winter shrugged and stepped back. ‘One more thing,’ he said, reaching into his pocket.
The witch smirked. ‘Yes?’
Winter pulled out a handful of herbs he’d prepared earlier and blew them gently towards the pair of guards. They blinked rapidly several times before their eyes rolled into the back of their heads and they keeled over. I caught the nice quiet one; Winter grabbed Mr Nasty.
‘You should have let him fall,’ I said.
‘He’s only doing his job.’
‘He didn’t have to be a prick about it.’
Winter took my hand. ‘Are you angry on my behalf?’
I groaned. ‘I guess so. You realise we’re turning into the worst kind of couple, right? Making moony eyes at each other and bristling at every perceived slight? It’s a slippery slope. Next thing you know we’ll be wearing matching T-shirts and getting Winter Luvs Wilde stickers for the car.’
He chuckled. ‘I think we’re probably safe for now. I don’t own many T-shirts.’ He had a point. Even when he stayed at home as part of the ranks of the hopelessly unemployed, he wore a perfectly starched shirt.
I grinned and tugged his hand. ‘Come on. Grenville’s portrait is up this way.’
‘What?’ he asked in a mocking voice. ‘Not up a flight ofstairs?’
‘Ha, ha.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Let’s go.’
We ambled up together, pausing when we reached the picture. ‘Intimidating bugger,’ Winter remarked.
‘Careful what you say,’ I said. ‘He’s kind of vain.’
‘Vain?’ Grenville screeched into my ear. ‘Vain?’
I winced. ‘Sorry.’
Winter gave me a questioning glance. I nodded briefly and turned to face the ghost. ‘Hey, chum,’ I said cheerily.
Grenville glared. ‘Who is this man?’
‘A highly talented witch who wanted to meet you for himself.’ I smiled.
The ghost snorted. ‘He’s not that talented then, is he? Only you are capable of that.’ He looked me up and down. ‘More’s the pity.’
I was starting to get a teeny bit fed up of all these dead people deriding me. ‘Look,’ I said, turning off my friendly expression. ‘You’re the one who wanted to meet here. I would rather be sleeping. If you prefer that we leave, that can easily be arranged.’ I didn’t mention that I needed him to tell me if I was turning into an evil necromancer. I’d save that part for when I knew I truly had the ghost in the palm of my hand. I wouldn’t exactly call myself a spiritual mastermind but I reckoned I was getting close.
Grenville sniffed loudly. ‘As the highest ranking spiritual entity on this plane, I have been nominated to make contact with you and lay out our demands.’
I blinked. ‘Demands?’ I felt Winter stiffen beside me and put a reassuring hand on his arm but I still stared at Grenville as if he were nuts.
‘Indeed.’ Grenville rose up so that he towered over me. If he thought that was supposed to be intimidating then he hadn’t had to drive hen parties home at three o’clock in the morning. ‘What is your name?’
‘Ivy.’
‘Ha! Figures.’
