Reign of Evil

The Section 9 leader simply nodded. They took the M25 to the M1 and headed north, reversing their trip. But at Breakspear Way she had Ian turn off and pull into Woodwells Cemetery. She got out, taking the birdcage with her. Trev and Walker got out as well. She asked for a flashlight and Trev gave her one. They followed her until they found the grave of an infant who’d only lived three days. The witch fell to her knees and dug until she had a pile of dirt. Then she pulled a knife from her pocket and sliced open her palm. She let the blood drip onto the dirt until it was glistening. Once she was satisfied, she waved Walker over and did the same to his palm, also dripping his blood on the dirt. Once she was finished, she removed the cover, pulled the bird free from the cage, and held her while she picked up handfuls of dirt and let them fall on the bird. She finally stood, whispered into the bird’s ear, then let her go. The bird took to the air and vanished in the dark sky.

“Now that’s done,” Sassy said, “we can go.”

She left the cage, but after following her for a dozen feet Walker returned and took it. He’d spied a trash can on the way in and hustled to get the cage inside it. The last thing he needed on his conscience was for some mother and father to come to the grave of their child only to find that it had been used for some arcane ceremony, even if it was an arcane ceremony for good.

They drove the rest of the way in silence. At RAF Chicksands, the guard seemed not to notice Ms. Moore. Dawn was lighting the early-morning sky as they climbed down the stairs into the basement of the priory.

When they hit the common area, Sassy plopped onto one of the couches and held out a hand. “Scotch.”

Ian complied but didn’t pour one for anyone else, which was just as well as far as Walker was concerned. He didn’t know if he’d be able to handle it. He stared dull eyed at the room’s old wooden walls, shined to a burnished gold by multiple hands over several hundred years.

Jerry pulled a first-aid kit from the wall, opened it, and began to treat the cut on Walker’s palm. It was fairly deep and about two inches long.

Sassy drank the first one fast. She treated the second one like a long-lost friend and took her time with it. When she was sated, she went to the sink and washed her face and hands. Finally, with everyone watching, she turned, putting her back to the sink.

She glared at Walker. “We’re in the shit now.”

Walker gave her his best what the hell do you mean look.

“That little hand-holding we did to discover what was happening created a connection between the Wild Hunt and us. It knows where I am and it knows where you are.”

Jerry, who’d been standing beside Walker, took a step away from him.

Sassy turned to Ian. “But we’re good for now. This priory has more prayer and magic than most anything. It’s lucky for us that this is your home.”

Ian glanced around. “Such as it is.”

“No, you don’t understand.” She held her arms out to encompass the walls. “The priory is shielded. I’m not sure you knew this, but when this was built, it was not only as a place of worship, but also as a place of refuge from entities such as the Sidhe and the Wild Hunt. That’s why it has survived for so long. There was a time when the church sought out the help of those such as myself instead of shunning us… hunting us.”

“So as long as we stay inside, then it can’t find us?” Walker asked.

“It might be able to track you here, if you ever leave again, but it can’t get inside, nor can it do what it did to my once lovely home.” She frowned and shook her head. “You have no idea what I lost to the Hunt. It’s going to be difficult to replace.”

“Was there something in your house that could help us defeat the Wild Hunt?” Ian asked.

“Possibly.” A look came over her as she sized up the men in the room. “Although, with a little ingenuity and firepower, we could get replacements for many of the items. I actually know of a man who has what I need.”

It took a moment for Ian to react to the statement, and when he did his face held a disappointed look. “You want us to steal for you?”

She offered a sweet smile. “Is it stealing if the person is a horrible warlock who sacrifices other people’s family pets?”

“Yes, it’s still stealing. But if he sacrifices family pets then that’s what we might call mitigating circumstances.”

She clapped her hands together. “Excellent. At least one good thing’s going to come out of this.”

Jerry went to her to apply a bandage to her cut, but she waved him away, showing him her hand, which had already healed.

“What was it we did back there?” Walker asked, rubbing the bandage covering his wound.

“Poor pigeon. We put our sign on the bird. When the Wild Hunt catches up to her, they won’t leave much, but it was a necessary sacrifice that got us to safety unscathed.”