Penmort Castle

Chapter Twenty-One The Battle Begins

Abby drove her car along the winding roads toward Penmort, concentrating closely because she didn’t really know where she was going and also because she was scared half out of her mind.

She had no idea how she’d let Angus talk her into this.

Yes, she did.

Tomorrow night Cash and she were going to the castle and spending the weekend there, staying Friday through Sunday. A “family” celebratory dinner was to be held Friday night. The extravaganza was Saturday night. And they were to leave Sunday after a brunch of family and close friends.

And if she didn’t meet Angus tonight she might not make it to Sunday.

Angus called Jenny’s phone that morning when Jenny and she were on their way to pick up her great-grandmother’s gown. Abby had taken it to the cleaners on Monday to have it cleaned and pressed. Jenny and she were headed there to pick it up as well as do other shopping for the weekend when Angus called.

Jenny, Abby noted, was acting weird.

She was far more quiet than normal, especially when Abby explained all that had happened with Cash that week.

Jenny, who Abby expected to freak out, simply turned to her and said, “That’s nice. He’s a good man, Abby, and I think he wants to make you happy.”

She sounded like she didn’t entirely believe her own words even though she wanted to. Furthermore, she shared no advice, guidance, concerns, warnings or even giggles, smiles or lewd questions about how Cash looked naked.

Definitely weird.

Then Abby had gone on to share her new life philosophy, something to which she was certain Jenny would have a reaction.

She’d come up with it lying in Cash’s bed last night, waiting for the cramps to go away and allowing herself the time, finally, to think of everything that had befallen her and what she was going to do about it.

When she got the call that Cash had an accident (she thought), she was definitely reacting or more to the point, overreacting because of what had happened with Ben. But she hadn’t been reliving losing Ben. She’d been upset because she couldn’t fathom the thought of losing Cash.

Which was something she couldn’t ignore even if she wanted to.

But he’d said himself that they weren’t going to lose one another until one of them wanted to be lost.

Which meant he knew one day he would move on.

Abby didn’t like this idea, it hurt even to contemplate it.

But she lay in his bed asking herself how she would behave if someone had told her that her time would be short with Ben.

In order to avoid the pain, would she have turned away, left him behind and not spent her years of love and laughter with him?

Never.

What she would have done was packed much more love and laughter in those years. She would have treasured every moment, even the bad ones, for the precious memories they would become.

So she had a monumental shift in thinking.

For she knew upon feeling the immense relief that Cash was alive and well that she cared about him. And she had to admit, finally, that what she and Cash had was good. No, it wasn’t good, it was great.

No, it wasn’t even great, it was magical.

She couldn’t kid herself anymore and she didn’t even want to.

But this time, she’d been given a boon. She already knew their time together would be short. That meant she could prepare. And that was exactly what she was going to do.

She was going to pack as much into her time with Cash as she could fit. And she was going to savour it while she had it. She was going to stop living her life in fear.

She was just going to live.

Abby thought Jenny would be thrilled to hear this though she didn’t tell Jenny that Cash had intimated the end at the same time he was initiating the beginning.

Instead, Jenny got a strange look on her face and gave Abby a hug.

Abby leaned back in her friend’s arms and asked, “Are you okay?”

Jenny pulled her lips between her teeth and bit them.

When she released them, she nodded and said, “Just happy for you.”

She didn’t look happy nor did she look okay but Abby let it go.

When Jenny was ready to share what was troubling her, Jenny would share. That had always been the way no matter how much Abby wheedled her.

So she let Jenny have her space.

That’s when Angus called.

Jenny handed Abby the phone and Angus told her he’d been at the castle and “on the job” for the last two nights but the “ghosty she-bitch”, a.k.a. Vivianna wasn’t showing.

“She’s a clever girl but not more clever than A McPherson!” he decreed grandly.

Then, without further ado, he told Abby his scary plan. A plan which consisted of Abby going to the castle and offering herself up as bait to a murderous, vindictive ghost.

Angus had already spoken with Fenella and Cassandra and everything was in place. Alistair and Nicola were out for the evening as was Suzanne, none of them to return until late.

Honor and Fenella would have Abby over to dinner and Abby would draw out Vivianna so Angus could take her down. However, Cassandra would give Abby some protection and Angus would give her some coaching before Abby went in.

Though, Angus assured her, Abby had nothing to fear. Angus would always be a “hairsbreadth” away.

There were a variety of things Abby didn’t like about this plan.

First, she didn’t want to be bait. Vivianna was a spirit-bitch-from-hell and Abby didn’t want to be anywhere near her until she had to be near her.

Second, she didn’t want to be bait (Abby thought that was worth pointing out twice).

Third, dinner with Honor and Fenella to draw out a ghost meant that she’d have to tell Cash she had other plans, plans that didn’t include him, and she didn’t figure he’d like that much.

That morning before he left for work when he, as usual, slid her hair off her neck, she felt it and she woke. Her eyes opened when his lips touched her skin.

She looked at his shadowy form and he murmured, “I’m leaving, darling.”

She’d muttered back, “Hang on,” and with sleepy energy she’d flipped her legs around his body and jumped out of bed. He rose with her and she grabbed his hand, led him to the guest bedroom and flicked on the lights.

“Abby –” he started but Abby was mumbling sleepily to herself.

“I should have come in and got it last night but I…” she stopped by the bed and he halted beside her, looking puzzled and somewhat impatient. She let go of his hand, reached under the pillow and pulled out an envelope. “Honor said she’d leave it here and she did,” Abby finished.

Cash’s eyes went from hers to the envelope and Abby explained about the copied diary pages and the safety deposit box.

Abby had not had time to process their emotional evening or any of the profound secrets Cash had let slip during his tirade. Secrets about his surprising history of being poor (something about which she had no idea, she thought, especially with his manner, that he’d been born to money, lots of it). Secrets about his father leaving his mother and him a fortune that had been taken away (something which neither Angus nor Honor or Fenella mentioned and she wondered if they knew). Secrets about the reason he worked so very hard (something which made her heart hurt).

That morning, he seemed none the worse for wear, his usual charismatic self. But a deadly light shone in his dark eyes when she explained what the envelope contained.

When she was done, his arm went around her waist, he hauled her into his body and his mouth came down on hers in an intense, thorough, mind-numbing kiss.

When he was done, her knees were weak and she sagged into his body.

After she recovered, she lifted the envelope and slapped it on his chest. This was done in an effort to be cute and try to control her heated body caused by the ferocious triumph she felt in his kiss and her concerns about what that might mean for his safety.

“Be smart with this, Mr. Fraser. Don’t make me regret giving it to you,” she teased mock-severely and he smiled but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

His eyes were still deadly serious.

His fingers closed around the envelope and he tucked it into his inside jacket pocket.

Then his hand went into her hair and he asked, his burr so rough it vibrated against her skin, “Fancy living in a castle?”

A shiver slid through her at his question, right before it hit her he was Penmort’s master, true and legal.

Her eyes moved over his handsome face and she realised it suited him.

Instead of answering his question, Abby snuggled closer and admitted, “That night we were there, Alistair stood by the fireplace and I thought he seemed out of place.” Her fingers curled into his lapel, she went up on tiptoe and tilted her head back as she got closer to his face. “You wouldn’t seem out of place. As crazy as this sounds, a castle suits you, Conner Fraser.”

At her words, his fist tightened in her hair, his mouth crushed down on hers and if she thought the first kiss was filled with ferocious triumph it was nothing to this one.

He’d lifted his head nary an inch when he was done and asked, “How long does your period last?”

“Not long,” she’d breathed, still recovering from the kiss and having some difficulty in this endeavour.

“How long?” he pushed.

“A couple of days,” she answered.

He grinned against her mouth and muttered, “I won’t make it.”

She couldn’t help it, Abby laughed, straight-out, nothing hidden, nothing buried, nothing held back, both hands clutching his shoulders and her body shaking with hilarity.

When she’d controlled her mirth she saw he was looking at her with a partially startled expression, the rest held a warmth so intense, it was breathtaking.

His hand went out of her hair and both arms wrapped tight around her as he shoved his face in her neck and he said something enormously strange.

“I’ve got you.”

“Pardon?” she asked.

His head came up, his mouth touched hers and he murmured, “Nothing.” His eyes scanned her face and his fingers came up, trailing her hairline, tucking the fall of hair behind her ear. “Go back to bed, darling, I’ll see you tonight.”

Then, after another touch of his lips against hers, he was gone.

When she’d called him that afternoon to tell him she had dinner plans with Honor and Fenella, she’d given him the excuse she and Jenny cooked up as to why he wasn’t invited.

Although Cash seemed not to have any reservations about discussing Abby’s menstrual cycle, she and Jenny were betting on the fact he wouldn’t feel the same about his cousin.

So, Abby had told him Fenella was having “female problems”.

This surprisingly worked.

Cash, sounding distracted, said only, “All right, love. Call me when you leave the castle so I’ll know when to expect you safely home.”

He didn’t seem curious to know why Abby all-of-a-sudden would be Fenella’s Female Problems Confidante and he didn’t seem angry she wouldn’t be home for dinner.

So now there she was on her way to the castle and perhaps her catastrophic end and she was thinking she didn’t want the last thing she said to Cash to be a lie.

Therefore, when she pulled into the pub where she was meeting Angus and Cassandra to get instructions before going to the castle, she yanked out her phone and dialled Cash.

He answered on the second ring.

“Everything all right?” he asked as greeting.

“Yes. Why?” Abby queried in return.

“Shouldn’t you be on your way to Penmort?”

“I am. I pulled over to call you.” There she was, lying again (kind of).

“You pulled over to call me,” he repeated.

“Yes,” she replied.

Silence.

“Cash?” she called.

“Yes?” he answered.

“You were silent,” she told him. “I thought maybe we were disconnected.”

“I’m here,” he said.

More silence.

“Cash!” she snapped into the silence.

“Abby,” he returned.

“You were silent again,” she informed him and heard his chuckle, so she asked, “What’s funny?”

“Darling, you called me.”

She felt like an idiot. “Oh. Right.”

“Did you have something to say?” he enquired.

She bit the side of her lip then admitted, “Not really.”

This time she heard his roar of laughter.

When he’d stopped laughing, he asked, “Were you biting your lip?”

“Pardon?”

“Biting your lip,” he repeated.

“Yes, why?” she answered.

“No reason,” he said, the warmth of his voice coming at her in delicious waves over the phone. “Listen, love, I’m in a meeting.”

Abby felt the blood drain from her face and definitely knew she was an idiot.

“You are?” she breathed.

“Yes, I have to go.”

“I’m an idiot,” she muttered.

“You’re exquisite,” he returned softly and Abby felt her world pitch crazily as she listened to him say, “I’ll see you later tonight.”

Then he disconnected.

The minute she slid her phone shut a sharp rap came on the window and she jumped.

She turned to the side and saw Angus’s red-cheeked face peering in at her.

“Lassie! No time for love banter, we’ve got things to do,” he boomed before he stepped back and opened her door.

Abby unbuckled her seatbelt and got out to see Cassandra approaching and Angus was again in full Scottish gear.

She looked at Angus and asked with disbelief, “You hunt ghosts in a kilt?”

“I always wear a kilt,” he informed her.

“Why?”

“I’m Scottish!” he bellowed.

“Oh… kay,” she said slowly, not wanting to get him wound up. He had serious business to attend to that night, he needed to stay focused.

Cassandra got close, gave Abby a cheek touch, stepped back and Angus began talking.

“Wee Honor and Fenella have been smart,” Angus said. “They’ve been well away from the castle anytime they talk or call someone about the ghosty she-bitch. Vivianna can be anywhere, hear anything and you won’t see her. You go into the castle, you don’t talk about her or why you’re there. Everything’s normal. Aye?”

“Aye,” Abby repeated and he grinned.

Cassandra came forward and held something out to Abby. Abby took it and saw it was a glass amulet surrounded with ornate silver filigree and filled with powder and what looked like flower petals, suspended from a thin, leather thong.

“Wear that,” Cassandra instructed, “protection. It should keep her from you. But if it doesn’t and Angus doesn’t get to you in time and you’re in danger, take it off and throw it to the ground. Smash it with your heel. You’ll see a purple mist form. The mist should shroud you enough to get away.”

Angus butted in, “And you run away. She attacks, and I’m not there within seconds, she gets through the protection charm, you smash it and you go.”

Abby gulped then she nodded.

Cassandra continued. “You head out of the castle and off the grounds. She can’t leave the grounds. Go into town. Keep your mobile in your back pocket at all times. You call me or Angus when you hit town and we’ll come and get you. Don’t go anywhere near the castle unless one of us has come to get you.”

“What about Honor and Fenella?” Abby asked.

Cassandra shook her head but Angus spoke. “They’ll be safe. Me and this wee lassie,” he jerked a thumb at Cassandra, “been doing some research about our spirit-bitch-from-hell. She made one mistake.”

Finally, Abby thought with some relief, Vivianna made a mistake.

Cassandra took up the thread. “She empowered herself with the ability to murder. Ghosts, most of the time, can’t harm people in a physical way. They can make noise. They can often move things but only after a good deal of practice. This is mostly done to be annoying or frightening but sometimes they’ll move something so it will be in someone’s way, trip them up, say to fall down the stairs.” Cassandra paused and when Abby nodded, she continued. “They can also appear and drive people towards danger or scare them to death. But Vivianna can actually touch the mortal flesh of her victims. She’s been able to do so since the beginning. That’s rare.”

“But only those she intends to kill,” Angus cut in. “Only those who she’s given herself the power to kill. Only the true loves of a Penmort master. Which means Honor and Fenella are safe.”

Abby knew she’d made this point before but she felt it was still pertinent. “I don’t mean to sound like a broken record but, seriously, honest to goodness, I’m not Cash’s true love.”

Cassandra and Angus looked at each other then back at Abby.

“If you aren’t, then you have nothing to worry about,” Cassandra said.

“Well that’s a relief,” Abby smiled.

“But if you weren’t, she’d no’ have been able to touch you, lass,” Angus put in gently.

Abby stared at him then asked, “What?”

“Thought she’d already harmed you, shoved you in the back?” Angus asked.

“Yes, but –” Abby started.

Angus cut her off by saying, “True love.”

Abby blinked.

Then something started to bud in the region of her heart, something that felt a lot like hope.

“I still don’t think –” Regardless of the hope in her heart, she continued to resist but Cassandra interrupted this time.

“Okay, we get it, you both are in the throes of a new relationship and you’re worried it’s getting too heavy too fast so you’re in denial. You’ve got to move passed that, mate. Whether he loves you, he doesn’t love you, whatever, it’s been established you’re a target and you’re vulnerable. Let’s move on.”

“He loves her,” Angus muttered under his breath.

“Let’s move on,” Cassandra said firmly.

“I’m saying he loves her,” Angus repeated, louder this time.

“Let’s move on!” Cassandra snapped, now firm and loud.

Angus’s hands came up. “All right, all right, don’t get your knickers in a twist.”

Cassandra looked at Abby. “We have another piece of somewhat good news.”

Abby didn’t like the “somewhat” part but she’d take any good news attached to Vivianna.

“What’s that?”

“She plays with her victims,” Angus stated.

Abby felt her stomach drop and whispered, “Pardon?”

“Plays with her victims,” Angus reiterated. “She doesn’t go in for the kill right away. She messes with ‘em, sometimes for years. At the very least until they provide Penmort with an heir.”

“Oh my God,” Abby breathed.

“This is good news,” Cassandra informed her and Abby turned to the witch.

“How can this be good news?” she cried. “I don’t want her playing with me!”

“A broken arm is a lot better than dead,” Angus commented logically.

“Easy for you to say!” Abby exploded. “I’ve got an evening gown to wear Saturday night and the cuts on my arms she gave me last time are still pink!”

Angus stared at her like she might have a screw loose but Cassandra got close.

“What we’re saying,” she started quietly, “is tonight’s not your night to die. Even if this doesn’t work, you should leave the castle breathing,” Abby turned wild eyes to Cassandra but she kept talking. “Just keep your head, Abby. Angus knows what he’s doing. So do I. If Angus doesn’t take her down, the only thing Vivianna might learn tonight is that she’s got a worthy adversary. But we’ll outsmart her,” her hand came up and gave Abby’s upper arm a squeeze before she said, “I promise.”

Abby felt slightly mollified by her promise, but not much.

“Now, get to the castle,” Cassandra finished.

“Keep a clear head. Eyes open. Stay vigilant. Anything that doesn’t feel right, you reckon it isn’t and you move,” Angus coached her. “You feel any cold draughts, a chill, she’s close.” Angus came near too and both Cassandra and he crowded her but Abby didn’t move, Angus went on gently, “Remember, lass, wherever you are, I’ll be watching.”

Abby nodded. She gave them a shaky smile and got in her car. She put the amulet around her neck, tucking it into her sweater so it couldn’t be seen.

She looked to the side and saw them both standing where she left them, close together.

She gave them an idiotic thumbs up, started her car and headed to her doom.

It was after a glass of wine, after dinner, Abby, Fenella and Honor were sitting the drawing room and they were drinking coffee.

Nothing had happened, except they’d had a pleasant night (when they weren’t all looking around thinking something was going to happen, that was).

“Do you need to go to the loo?” Fenella asked on a prompt, her voice overly-loud and squeakily-high.

“No, she doesn’t have to go to the loo,” Honor snapped.

“I thought maybe she needed to use the loo,” Fenella repeated, bugging her eyes out at Honor as if Honor hadn’t already caught on that Fenella was quickly losing endurance for the wait for Vivianna to show.

“She doesn’t need to use the loo,” Honor repeated right back, also bugging out her eyes and if she could use the throat-slit gesture to shut her sister up without Vivianna seeing it, she would.

Not that clever, ghosty she-bitch Vivianna hadn’t already cottoned on to their game.

Abby took in a breath.

She had an idea, it was a scary idea but Fenella was right, something had to give.

So she shared, “I thought maybe you girls could give me a tour of the castle.”

“I’d love that!” Fenella shrieked.

“Great idea,” Honor cried, jumping up from her chair.

Fenella got up as well and clapped her hands together, appearing like she was genuinely looking forward to this. “There’s so much to see, where to start?”

Honor leaned into Abby and confided, “She loves this old heap.”

“It isn’t an old heap. It’s beautiful,” Fenella shot back then squealed, “The armoury! Let’s start in the armoury!”

Considering the circumstances, Abby would have picked a room that didn’t hold ancient weapons but she followed Fenella anyway.

And Fenella was right, it wasn’t an old heap.

It was beautiful.

And it was perfect, absolutely perfect, for Cash.

If she could build something that represented his strength, his energy, his beauty, it would have been Penmort.

The armoury was filled with ancient weapons, and even more ancient flying pendants which dripped in veritable rags from their poles, they were so old and way cool. There was a billiards room with an enormous billiards table. There were the inner and outer halls with their colossal fireplaces that led to the huge dining room with a gleaming table that sat twenty. There was the grand stair hall with intricately carved balustrades and a grand piano at the foot. There was also a study with an ornate carved desk that was so huge two people could sleep on it without touching.

On the second floor were bedrooms, many of them having their own sitting rooms, dressing rooms and bathrooms. The second floor also held the morning room, and the leather gallery filled with portraits of Beaumarises past. Lastly, the second floor also held a beautiful, cosy sewing room which was situated in a turret.

Fenella told Abby the third floor held the now unused servants quarters, nursery and school room. She explained as well that the rooms below the ground floor were also mostly no longer utilised but had been, in olden times, for the running the house, including the kitchens, housekeeper’s and butler’s offices and quarters, a coal room, laundry rooms, things like that.

Fenella said on the first floor they’d missed the conservatory and library. As these were Fenella’s favourite places, they were to be their final destination.

They had made it to the long, handsome, wood-panelled gallery, filled with portraits of ancestors (and, Abby noted with some surprise and a vague sense of alarm, that all the women were blonde and all the men looked quite a bit like Cash).

Except, of course, Alistair’s portrait, which was the largest of any and the most pompous. Something about it, its size and the prominence of place, turned Abby’s stomach.

“I know,” Honor whispered beside her, obviously reading her thoughts, “makes you sick, doesn’t it?”

Abby didn’t speak but she nodded.

Then Honor turned dancing eyes to Abby. “I wonder what Cash will do with that when he moves in?” she asked, motioning to the portrait with her head.

“I hope he burns it,” Abby murmured and Honor took her arm in both hands, leaned into her and gave her arm a squeeze.

Then she muttered, “I’ll bring the marshmallows,” and Abby couldn’t help it, it was such a divinely evil comment, she laughed.

“This is my favourite,” Fenella called and Honor and Abby moved toward Fenella who was standing off the main gallery in a big bay window where there were two, smaller portraits.

Abby walked up to Fenella’s side and saw she was gazing at a man who looked, shockingly, just like Cash.

It wasn’t an old portrait. By his clothes you could see that it was recent, not from this decade or the last, but not hundreds of years ago either. And it wasn’t like any of the other formal poses of the other pictures.

This man was a man on the move, a man with energy, a man with a healthy appetite for life. So healthy, he seized it by its throat and consumed it.

How the artist captured it, Abby had no idea. He was striding across a field, Penmort resting grandly atop its tor in the distance. He had two dogs at his heels, beautiful German Shepherds. He was in outdoor clothing, tweed blazer with patches at the arms, boots over his trousers, mud up the heels and ankles. He had broad shoulders, an athletic build and you could tell he had a wide, strong gait, made easy for him by having long legs. He held a shotgun, cocked open and lying over his forearm, the gun butt tucked into his side.

The picture was in profile, but the man was looking over his shoulder as if someone had called him, or, perhaps, he was calling his dogs. Therefore, the artist had been able to capture him full-face.

And he was heart-stoppingly handsome.

On closer inspection, he didn’t look just like Cash. There were subtle differences. His forehead was broader, for one. He wore his hair shorter, for another. The planes and angles of his face were harder and sharper, but no less attractive.

But the similarity was uncanny.

“Who is that?” Abby asked.

“Anthony Beaumaris,” Fenella answered and Abby’s body jerked at the realisation she was gazing upon Cash’s father.

“My God,” she breathed and she felt her chest constrict at the knowledge that this man, this compelling, dynamic, striking man had had his life cut short.

Something made her lift her hand as if to touch the portrait, as if touching it would mean she’d touch him, but when her finger was just centimetres away, the scream began.

And it was just as Honor described it. It was low, it was eerie and it was sinister.

Abby’s blood ran cold.

Her hand dropped and she turned wide eyes to Fenella and breathed, “What is that?” even though she knew what it was.

Exactly what it was.

“Go,” Fenella whispered in a barely-there voice.

Abby blinked at her. “Pardon?”

But Fenella was looking over Abby’s shoulder, her face pale, her eyes frightened and she shrieked, “Go now!”

Abby whirled then froze when she saw Vivianna in the gallery, floating, the tattered edges of her dress whipping around her viciously as if they were in a frenzy, as if they could do harm. Her mouth was opened emitting a scream that filled the very air. Her face was bloodthirsty.

Her eyes were on Abby.

“Go!” Fenella screamed and Abby went.

She hadn’t been stupid. This time she wore jeans and flats with rubber soles, good for gripping and easy to run in.

And Abby ran. She ran for dear life.

She skirted Vivianna and made it out the door, to the hall and was flying down the stairs, her breath coming in terrified pants, when Vivianna formed in front of her.

Right in front of her.

And Abby, to her shock, ran into her like she was a solid, physical thing.

And to her further stunned surprise, a burst of purple sparks shot out between them, coming from the place where the amulet rested against Abby’s chest.

Both Abby and Vivianna flew backward. Abby, landing painfully on her hands, Vivianna, arms wheeling and out-of-control, descended away from Abby going nearly all the way down the flight of stairs.

Vivianna halted her descent. She bent her head and looked at what appeared to be a burn mark on her dress where Abby’s amulet had hit her.

Her head shot up, her eyes narrowed on Abby, she opened her mouth and let out another blood-chilling scream.

Then she shot forward, straight toward Abby but Abby scrambled back up the steps, crawling on all fours like a crab.

Even though Abby moved, and fast, Vivianna was nearly on top of her when the spirit was jerked back at the waist, her scream abruptly halting.

“That’s it, she-bitch, The McPherson has come to play!” Angus bellowed from a dozen steps away. His hand held a strange whip, the end of it was curled around Vivianna’s waist, he was reeling her in and Vivianna was struggling against the bounds.

“Go lassie, I got her,” Angus called.

“Abby! This way!” Fenella shouted from the top of the stairs and Abby turned, crawling up the stairs on all fours again, stumbling in a terrified frenzy so she was sometimes using her knees and sometimes her feet.

She got to the top of the stairs and they heard a grunt. Honor was there too and Abby, Fenella and Honor looked over the balustrade and down the stairs to see Angus falling, his kilt awhirl, Vivianna drifting after him.

“Angus!” Abby screamed, not thinking and running toward the fallen Scotsman.

When she turned on the landing, she saw Angus was at the bottom, on his side, his head came up and he boomed, “No, lassie! Go the other way!”

But Abby kept moving toward him and Vivianna came at her again. They collided, the purple sparks flew and Vivianna reeled back. Apparently aided by the velocity Abby was going, this time Vivianna went far further, sailing down the stairs, past Angus, into and through the inner hall and right through a wall.

Abby, however, had been ready for it and when they collided, she shoved her foot into the stairwell to keep herself steady and then threw herself forward. She descended the rest of the stairs and crouched by Angus.

“Are you hurt?” she asked as she heard Fenella and Honor come rumbling down the stairs behind her.

“Get her outta here!” Angus roared.

“Are you hurt?” Abby shouted.

“Let’s go. Go, go, go, go, go!” Honor yelled, pulling Abby up but Vivianna had melted back through the wall and was nearly upon them.

Abby’s hand went to the leather around her neck. She yanked the necklace over her head, threw it to the ground and stomped on it with her heel.

A purple mist immediately blew up, enveloping them. Abby bent low, her hands grasping Angus under his armpit, she tugged up with superhuman effort, got him to his feet and the four of them ran, awkwardly, through the inner hall, into the outer hall, out the entrance lobby and into the night. The whole time they ran, the purple mist followed them.

And they kept running, Abby dragging Angus, until they’d gone out the gate at the side of the castle, down the steep hill, through the castle’s outer wall, down a winding path into town and past several storefronts. Once they hit town, the mist evaporated.

There, Angus pulled Abby to a halt and stopped, bent over, hand to his side, and wheezed.

“Are you okay?” Abby asked, crouching low and looking up at him.

“Lassie,” he rasped, took in a deep breath, then panted, “when I say go,” he took in another breath and gasped, “you better bloody well go!”

They heard running steps and Cassandra approached, stopping on a skid.

Abby stood up and Cassandra’s eyes fell on her, dropping immediately to her sweater.

“What happened?” she asked.

“She attacked,” Fenella told Cassandra.

Cassandra looked at Angus. “Did you get her?”

“No I didn’t get her,” Angus snapped, straightening. “The she-bitch bested me,” he looked mortified for a moment then bellowed, “She bested A McPherson!”

“Be quiet,” Honor hissed, “we’re in town.”

Abby turned to Cassandra and announced, slowly, clearly and loudly, “Your… amulet… rocked!”

Cassandra leaned back, put her hands on her hips and smiled. “Did the trick, eh?”

“It rocked!” Abby repeated, incapable of further speech.

“I’m good with a charm,” Cassandra informed her.

“Well, you better make sure we all have some,” Angus announced. “Vivianna knows she’s met her match. She might have been surprised Abby had magic tonight, but she’ll no’ make that mistake again.”

Abby looked at Fenella and Honor, her shoulders drooping, and she muttered, “Great.”

“Don’t worry. I have some other tricks up my sleeve,” Cassandra said so confidently, Abby actually believed her.

Then, to her surprise, Angus grinned at Abby, “Lucky for you, lass, now I know what I’m up against. And The McPhersons got more tricks than a spirit-bitch-from-hell, believe you me.”

Fenella got close and put her arm around Abby’s waist. “Well that sounds good, doesn’t it?” she asked.

Abby, who would vastly prefer not to be battling a ghost and that night she’d learned exactly what that meant and it petrified her, had to admit Fenella was right.

It didn’t occur to Abby, until she quietly closed and locked Cash’s front door, that she’d forgotten to phone him when she left the castle.

This wasn’t surprising, considering she was freaked out when she’d left the castle. And this freak out meant she had to concentrate on her driving and, therefore, she hadn’t thought to call Cash. Instead, her thoughts had centred on getting home in one piece.

It wouldn’t do to survive Vivianna only to die in a tragic car accident.

Although it was late, the castle more than an hour’s drive away, she wasn’t surprised to see no light shining from upstairs but a light coming from the back hall.

This indicated Cash was downstairs, likely working, maybe drinking a whisky, maybe getting concerned (or more likely angry) waiting for her call.

She took off her coat and soundlessly hooked it on the banister with her purse and she headed downstairs.

Her shoes were quiet, the rubber soles making no noise.

This was how she could get through the house and down the stairs without Cash hearing.

Or, more to the point, this was how she could get through the house and down the stairs without Cash and Suzanne hearing.

For Suzanne was there.

Abby knew this because, four steps from the bottom, she turned her head and she saw them in the kitchen.

She saw them in the kitchen, embracing.

More than embracing.

One of Suzanne’s arms was locked around Cash’s neck, her other hand in his hair, her body was pressed to his. His hands were gripping her waist just above her hips. Her lips were on his, his were on hers and both of their mouths were open.

Abby felt her heart clench as her stomach lurched and neither of these felt good.

In any way.

So, unfortunately, when she spoke, her voice held a fierce tremor that betrayed her emotion when she asked what was supposed to come out coolly, “Am I interrupting something?”