Evil Spark (18 page)

Taking my seat at the freshly scrubbed table—Grandma had obviously been busy—I raised my eyebrows at Kate. She smiled and nodded, saying Grandma seemed fine. And she did. She got me a mug and poured my tea. We all sat, the three of us, sipping and smiling at each other.

"So, Grandma, anything you want to tell me?"

"Like what?" she asked suspiciously.

"Like if you know anything about Rikka going missing. You and him go way back, we all do, but you probably know him better than anyone."

"Ha! I remember him when he was a pudgy little child playing with sticks and trying to zap frogs."

"Eh? What? He's from Finland."

"And?"

"Well, um, er, where are you from then?" I realized at that moment there was a lot I didn't know about Grandma.

"Oh, here and there. You know how it is." I didn't. Neither did Kate by the looks of it. "And as to your question. No, I don't know what has happened to him, but I bet it's his own fault."

"What? Why do you say that?"

"Because he's been getting idle, so have all of you. You're getting complacent and now look what's happened."

"Look what happened to you. You saying that was your fault too?"

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," she said cryptically. "Anyway, Kate here tells me you two finally spent the night together. Was it nice?" She wiggled her ears suggestively.

"Grandma!" Kate smiled and I squirmed.

"I don't think we need to talk about that. Not with Grandma."

"Faz Pound, I am two thousand years old. I had my last husband two hundred years before you were born. I know what it's all about."

"Last husband? Eh? Anyway, I know you, um, have experienced things, but you're still Grandma to me."

"And you are still a little naughty boy who won't eat his sandwiches to me. Speaking of sandwiches, you need to start eating more. You're all skin and bones." Grandma got up and busied herself in the kitchen. The witches had stocked the fridge and there was fresh bread on the counter. They look after their own, there's no denying that.

"So that's it, everything is back to normal then?" I couldn't believe it. Wasn't she freaked out? Itching for revenge? Something? She hadn't even asked about Stanley.

"Of course. I had my little adventure and now I'm back."

I turned to Kate, but she shrugged her shoulders and smiled—she loves being at Grandma's. A suspicion came to me that I couldn't shake. "You know, Grandma," I said carefully, thinking about how to word what I was about to say, "if I was the suspicious type, I could almost believe that you knew all this would happen and you let it anyway."

Grandma turned from her sandwich making and said, "Me? Little old Grandma?"

Yeah, right. She may look like an old lady but that's her power. She is innocent, she's pure, a force of nature. Elemental. Meaning you don't mess with her. "Yes. It's like you let Stanley take you, and let yourself be drugged. But that would mean you let Matilda get killed, and you would never do that."

"Do you mean Matilda, the trainee witch it turns out had been selling knowledge of potions, that have been guarded for millennia, to the vampires? That Matilda? The one that got killed?" She resumed her sandwich making.

Guess what I did? I sipped my tea and didn't say a word. Kate stared at Grandma open-mouthed. She hasn't known her that long, so still has a lot to learn about this awesome woman.

Okay, look, this gets a little confusing. I'm still not sure I really know what went down, and doubt I ever will, but you have to understand something. Witches are, when you get right down to it, sneaky, vindictive, sometimes mean-spirited, incredibly generous, way too intelligent, and too damn clever by half.

They are manipulative, have more influence than you can possibly imagine, and they absolutely do not let things happen to them unless they want them to, or they are in a seriously vulnerable position.

For someone to get one over on Grandma would mean she would basically have to be dead. It's why it wasn't sitting right about Stanley fooling her so easily with a potion. It had bugged me. I'd simply never thought she could be fooled so easily, not when it came to potions. Not about anything.

Grandma is many things, but she isn't anything but pure and lovable at her core. It's just that her nature is as complex as the gentle movements of the oceans, and just as deep and unknowable.

Once my thoughts were in order, and just for peace of mind, I spoke. "So, let me see if I've got this right. Stanley turns up here, with some contentment potion from somewhere. You are in the kitchen with Matilda, probably fighting. He sets his new pet vampire on poor Matilda, then you two strip down and... Ugh, no, that can't be right. Okay. Come on, spill it."

"Faz, just this once, I will let you in on my business, but you know I like to deal with problems in my own way."

"I know." She was right. Grandma takes a very matter-of-fact approach to all her magical dealings. She does what she does then gets on with making the tea.

"Stanley did come, and I was confronting Matilda, and while he waited with his new vampire friend he did hear us 'discussing' the matter. Which I knew he would as he'd told me he would."

"What!? He told you what you were going to do so you did it?"

"Don't interrupt! And I may have left Matilda alone with the vampire, Govan, and he may have gone a little out of control. And I may have drunk a potion, but it wasn't from Stanley."

"You made it yourself," squeaked Kate, following along better than me.

"What? Why?" See what witches are like? They're like politicians, but with brains.

"For Stanley. He'd had enough of this world, couldn't cope any longer with what he was. Poor man, such a gentleman. So I offered to help him. You know this is what I do, Faz. I help people be what they want to be."

She was right. Grandma's potions are the last piece of the puzzle. Opening up the doors that need opening, shutting others.

"Stanley wanted that to happen? He knew?"

"Of course. He was a seer. That was the problem. He was tired, Faz, and knew his future. That poor man saw what was to happen, so let it."

"So he let it play out exactly how it did? All the things he did with Govan, then with you, me and Kate, getting killed at the morgue? Did I mention that?" Grandma and Kate shook their heads, but I could see Grandma already knew. Stanley had probably told her. "Letting me worry and think the worst, all of it, you planned it all, did it all on purpose?"

"Of course. To help Stanley and to clean up the mess that was getting a little out of control."

"Poor Matilda," said Kate.

Grandma turned to her with sympathy. "Kate, dear, you have an awful lot to learn. Matilda was a nice girl, but she was never long for this world. She's better off where she is. She was dealing with the vampires and selling them secrets, it was never going to end well. Stanley had seen it all, so had I, so he got Govan to kill her. It's for the best. If it had gone on much longer then that girl's life would have been nothing but a living nightmare."

"Blimey." Kate was having a hard job taking it all in. So was I.

"What about Govan now?"

"I don't know. He was already a vampire. Now it's down to him, I guess. We all make our choices, Faz, all of us. Stanley found the boy, but even though he knew the child's future he gave him an option. Stanley would have put him out of his misery, but Govan chose life, to be a vampire. Just like Kate did. You make your choice, you deal with it. Right, Kate?" Grandma smiled with pure love at Kate, who nodded and tried not to cry. She loves Grandma so much.

"But, um, I was worried."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But it got you out of bed, didn't it? You lazy boy."

"What if I hadn't found you? The vampires were there, after Govan. It was Oliver. He could have hurt you."

"Oliver may be stupid, but he isn't that stupid."

"You'd be surprised."

"I knew you'd find me, Faz." Grandma smiled at me like I was having the most obvious thing in the world explained to me.

"Stanley, right? He saw what would happen to himself so worked out that I would have had to have found you for the rest to happen?" Grandma nodded, eyes amused by my fumbling detective work.

I gave up. Grandma does stuff like this now and then. I often think it's just to have a little adventure, or to teach me some kind of lesson that will slowly filter through over time. I haven't discovered the point of this particular lesson yet.

Maybe it really was just to help Stanley out and deal with things the best way she knew how. The girl was dead without the witches, or her family, knowing she had turned traitor. The witches would have done worse things to her than the vampires ever could, so maybe that was at the heart of the whole thing? That and helping Stanley? Ugh, witch business is way too complex.

"Here we are. Eat up." Grandma placed a plate of sandwiches on the table. Piled so high the stack was more precarious than a zombie stood on one leg and told to stop picking bits off. A sandwich toppled and fell onto the table. I picked it up and peered at it suspiciously.

"Not any special herbs in here, are there?" I asked, peering at the various leaves in amongst the cheese.

"What, me, put any kind of magic infused addition to your sandwich?" Grandma looked way too innocent, which is always a bad sign.

We worked our way through the lunch, then spoke more of what had happened. I took in what I understood, discarded the rest. Grandma is a true woman of mystery. Some things you can understand, some you have to take on trust. She has lived for two thousand years and you cannot expect to have the same outlook on life as somebody who has seen the world change that much.

We moved on to talking about what else was going on for a while, before Grandma got too excited and could contain herself no longer. She made me bring in the gifts from the doorstep, rubbing her hands together eagerly, like a little kid on her birthday.

Anyone would think she had engineered the whole thing just to get all the goodies. But Grandma would never do that. She's a sweet, innocent old lady that always knows what people want and helps give it to them—it's just sometimes they don't even know what it is they want. She gives it to them anyway.

It was probably one of the best afternoons of my life. Me, Grandma, and Kate, sat around in her kitchen, nobody answering the door, just us in a cocoon of food, strong tea, and love. It was just about perfect.

More than anything else in the world I want more of the same. I want it until it becomes normal, until I don't have to think of it as a special day. Just another day, what I do, not what I'm more grateful for than having such handsome features and a body women swoon over. They do, honest!

Contemplation

By early evening, each of us were a little lost to our own thoughts. Pots boiled on the stove as they always did—I hadn't even seen Grandma put them on—steam billowed and eddied like we were visiting hell, but on a good day, and the rain tapped at the window like gremlins as they nibbled your toenails in the night. That happens to everyone you know, it's why you wake up some mornings and scag your feet on the covers.

Reluctantly, not wishing it to be over, I stood. It was time to go. Tea was finished, mugs were washed, rain fell, family smiled, and two of the three present were somewhat confused. But I forgave her for the worry. I can't hold a grudge against Grandma, it would be like getting cross with a faery earlobe.

"Tell Rikka to come visit me once you find him, Faz," said Grandma, stood in the hall, hands on hips, pinafore on, pink "house" slippers planted firmly on her feet.

"I will." I walked back to her and hugged her tight then kissed her on her forehead. "Love you."

"You daft lump. Go give Kate a big rogering and stop messing about."

"Grandma!" I'd never heard her say such a thing in my life. It sounded wrong. So very wrong.

"In our world you have to live for the moment, Faz."

"Okay, Grandma."

"Bye, Grandma," said Kate, smiling and kissing her. What is with the women in my life? It's like they are out to make me squirm.

"I think she's gone loopy after all this," I said as we got into the car.

"She's just happy to be home. And happy that we are..."

"Together?"

"I hope so. You don't mind, me talking to her about us?"

"Well, I guess not. Although I'd rather not have the sex talk with my granny, if I'm honest." I frowned at the things Grandma had said.

"Haha, big tough guy. Black Spark, Dark Magic Enforcer, Squirmer in Front of Grannies, Cowerer in the Face of Mildly Suggestive Words."

"It's Grandma," was all I could manage to say with a grumpy moan. "Do you believe all that? What she said?"

"I guess. She's a dark horse, isn't she?"

"Yeah, you could say that. Taking her own potion, knowing Stanley would get killed, and Matilda and Govan, all of it, it's a bit mad, or is it just me?"

"Faz Pound, it's exactly the kind of thing you would do if you thought it would help out a friend. Don't you get it? You're just like her. She wanted to help Stanley and she wanted to deal with Matilda for selling us all out for a little cash. I may only have been Hidden for three years but I do know some things, and I know you abide by the rules. At least, some do. She did what she thought was right and as far as I can tell it's all worked out fine."

"Apart from the fact Rikka went off on one blaming the vampires and he's gone missing."

"Well, there is that."

"How about I take you home? I have to go visit Taavi, much as I don't want to, but can I see you tomorrow?"

"You can see me tonight if you want," she said, voice husky and sexy as a pocketful of faery ears—um, sorry, that sounds different in my head to when it's written down. Honest, you have to see them, they're ace!

"Gulp. I get the feeling it will be one of those nights, and call me old-fashioned, but I'd rather it be special than me rushing about or stressing about things."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Faz, I have to tell you something. I'm sorry I left you."