Timeless (9 page)

Twenty minutes later, neatly clothed in a crisp, white linen shirt and a tight-fitting black leather pencil skirt, Carmen sat cross-legged in an Edwardian wing-back armchair in the library of Lancaster House, waiting for her visitor. Her fiery red hair fell over her shoulders and down her back in long glossy waves. She tapped the toe of her high-heeled black stiletto impatiently on the floor, looking at the antique clock on the wall for the umpteenth time. Moments later, a
knock on the door had Carmen ringing the tiny bell she grasped in her hand. She uncrossed, then re-crossed her legs. "Door, Henry," she called to her trusty butler, who was busy in the kitchen.

"On my way, ma'am," he replied, hunched deliberately over the counter, carefully spooning duck liver pâté into a small clay pot. Once this task was accomplished, he placed the pâté on a tray, alongside a little pot of caviar. He arranged thin slices of a baguette, which he had baked to a light golden brown, down the side of a platter, with portions of artfully placed smoked salmon garnished with capers, lemon wedges and sprigs of parsley from the garden. Wiping his hands on a starched, white linen napkin, he stood to his full height, admiring his handiwork. Satisfied, he tossed the napkin on the bench, and went to answer the door. He welcomed the old woman with a curt nod, then ushered her swiftly into the library to join his mistress.

"I shall be back in the briefest of moments," Henry said, reversing from the room in long strides, and with an exaggerated, low-sweeping bow. The tall, rakishly thin man was comical-looking in a black suit that barely covered his wrists or ankles. White socks, neatly turned down at the top, protruded from black, glossy, lace-up shoes.

"Welcome, Clamenza," Carmen said, motioning the old woman to the chair opposite her.

Clamenza's gray hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, and on her head she wore a black hat, which she promptly removed.
"We have a problem," she said gruffly, sitting down. Placing the hat on her lap, she leaned her walking stick against the round, mahogany table that separated them. A cockroach scrambled out from the sleeve of her purple coat and ran across the table.

In one fluid motion, Carmen's hand came crashing down on the insect, splattering it on the table.

Clamenza gasped in horror, her hands flying up to cover her mouth as the bug dragged its misshapen body across the table, minus its two back legs.

Henry floated silently back into the room a short time later with his tray of delicacies balanced perfectly on one hand. He slid the tray into the centre of the table without disturbing a single item.

Carmen was wiping her hand on a napkin. "Dispose of that, will you, Henry," she said, motioning towards the mangled corpse of the cockroach. She turned to look at Clamenza. "If you insist on bringing vermin into the house, I shall have Henry spray you with pesticide on your next visit."

"Most certainly," Henry said, looking down his nose at Clamenza. He picked up the insect by one of its antennae, then
dropped it
unceremoniously
into the
napkin Carmen held out. He quickly folded the napkin, taking it from Carmen's hand, then shoved it into his jacket pocket with revulsion. "Enjoy your snack, ladies," he said, spiriting from the room in the blink of an eye.

Clamenza squirmed in her seat, quickly composing herself after the loss of her little friend. There were plenty more, after all, where he had come from. "Such unnerving, unnatural creatures, vampires," Clamenza said as the door to the library closed silently behind Henry. With a silver spoon, she piled a mountain of caviar onto a thin slice of
the baguette. "Beluga?" she enquired, biting into the crisp, tiny black beads heaped on the triangular piece of toast.

"Of course it's Beluga," Carmen spat. "What else would it be, some disgusting cheap knock-off? Now," she said, bringing closure to any further discussion about food, bugs, or vampires. "Tell me about this latest problem we have with the witch."

"Witches," Clamenza corrected between bites. "Two witches. But it is the Rosenberg witch that we should be most concerned about. She is one of the Saken Circle. The very circle determined on destroying us."

"I know all about the Saken Circle," Carmen growled, the serpent bangle on her arm hissing and quivering. "Have you managed to locate the other witch imprisoned in the red bottle? The one that you lost."

Clamenza shook her head. "It is near. I can feel the—"

Carmen crashed her fist down on the table, silencing the woman. "Near is not good enough, old woman, and I don't care what you
feel
. It is only a matter of time before they free the girl from the bottle. And if that happens—"

"I know what happens. With four witches from the Saken Circle, it is only a matter of time before they locate the fifth."

"You have a spy in the Witchwood House, do you not?"

"I do," Clamenza agreed. "A boy."

"Then I suggest you use him to find out how close they are. Do you know if they are in possession of the book?"

"No," Clamenza said sharply, unfolding a linen napkin on the table and arranging an assortment of food in the centre of it. Folding it up, she placed the laden napkin in her coat pocket. "I know what I have to do," she said rising, starting towards the door.

"You have forgotten something," Carmen said, tossing the walking stick at the old woman.

Clamenza spun around, and snatched the tossed stick out of the air, without so much as a flinch.

Carmen picked up her bell and shook it, summoning Henry.

"Never mind," Clamenza drawled, turning her back and walking out of the room. "I can see my own way out without the aid of a sneering vampire looking down his nose at me."

"You must be Clamenza," Vera said, walking up to the old woman leaving the library.

Clamenza looked the woman up and down and sniffed the air. Mothballs. The poor woman reeked of mothballs, for goodness' sake. Unlike her perfectly accessorized sister, who smelled of a woman fresh from her lover's arms, Vera smelled of mothballs and wore a dowdy, floral house frock and flat, brown, lace-up shoes similar to those worn by men. She was rubbing her hands nervously together, her face pinched painfully as the old woman glared at her.

"And you must be Carmen's skinny kid sister," Clamenza retorted, taking a step backward, repelled by the smell of mothballs. "Tell me," the older woman said, "have you seen your husband this afternoon? I would keep an eye on him if I were you. A man could easily get lost in a house of this size, and, well, with your sister looking like... like she does, well, it can't be easy living in a shadow cast by the likes of a woman like her..." Clamenza shrugged apologetically.

Vera's face contorted into an angry scowl, then she turned abruptly on her heel and scurried away in the direction from which she had come, mumbling and cursing, her flat shoes slapping the white marble floor.

Once alone in the spacious foyer, Clamenza shook her leg in its thick black stocking, freeing a small militia of cockroaches which scurried along the cold, polished floor toward the library. "Go forth, my little beauties, and seek your revenge," she chuckled, pushing open the front doors of Lancaster House and walking out into the sunlight, her little black hat shading her face from the late afternoon sun.

Moments later, Clamenza
threw her head back and chuckled again, her shoulders jumping up and down as she heard a piercing squeal followed by a tinkling bell and Carmen shrieking for Henry to come quickly. "Well done, my little friends," Clamenza said, a broad smile spreading across her face. Then suddenly her smile fell away and, for the briefest of moments, another scent, a pretty scent, piqued her interest. It was a floral scent, or perhaps the scent of sugar and cream, if sugar and cream had a scent. It was emanating from the white Range Rover pulling out of the driveway and driving away, then, just as quickly, the scent was gone. Clamenza shook her head in frustration. "Impossible," she muttered, her feet crunching noisily on the gravel and twigs as she disappeared into the long shadows cast by the nearby forest. Moments later, a dark cloud of bats rose in the air above a thick canopy of branches, and flittered away.

Chapter 9 –
Guardian.

Nina flew across the room at Mindy, then embraced her.

"Oh my gosh," Mindy shrieked. "How long has it been? You still look deliciously dead and mysterious as you always do, without the decomposing stink, of course." She held Nina at arm's length to look at her. She turned around to look at Alexandria, then leaned over and pushed her chin up with the tip of her finger. "Close your mouth dear, you'll catch flies."

Alexandria shook her head in disbelief. "You know each other?"

"Good heavens, yes. We go back a long way." Mindy wrapped her arm around Alexandria's shoulders. "Did she pull the jumping off the roof trick on you, too? I bet she did. You did, didn't you?" Mindy asked, looking back at Nina, who merely shrugged her shoulders in response to Mindy's questions and Alexandria's scowl. "Has nothing changed?" Mindy continued. "You were always such a drama queen, making dramatic entrances, scaring people half out of their wits in the process."

Kat hopped down off the kitchen bench. "So you're the vamp I've read so much about. The one Aunt Mindy and my mother went to school with?"

Mindy and Nina looked at each other, then stared back at Kat, puzzled looks on their faces.

Kat bit her lip. "Oh, did I forget to mention that I found my mother's crusty old grimoire in the attic?" She put her hand on her hip. "Am I bad?"

Mindy looked back at Nina. "I think that's why we were summoned. What else would bring us both back here at the same time?"

Nina spirited across the room until she stood just inches away from Kat. "Your mother doesn't know that you have her grimoire, does she." It was more of an accusation than a question.

Unnerved by the vampire's closeness, Kat endeavoured to take a step backward, but her feet wouldn't budge. "No," she murmured, leaning backward to distance herself from Nina. She turned her head towards Aunt Mindy. "I could use some help here, please," she whispered, struggling to lift her feet off the floor, but to no avail. "Please," she asked again.

Alexandria moved silently across the kitchen and into Andrew's arms. "Please don't hurt her. She hasn't done anything wrong," Alexandria pleaded. "She saved me when Vera attacked me. She wouldn't have been able to do that if she hadn't read her mother's book. And why shouldn't she know who she is? What she is? Her mother has lied to her, her whole life..."

Mindy placed a hand on Nina's shoulder. Immediately Kat's feet were free, and she ran quickly to Alexandria's side. "Because it is dangerous to use magic without knowing what you are doing," Mindy said. "You don't know who, or what, you may have attracted to Ferntree Falls. There are those out there that would like nothing more than to see you both dead. Your mother knew this. That's why she's kept the truth from you. From both of you." She placed her hands lovingly on Kat's cheeks, her fingers brushing away a tear. She wrapped her arms around both girls, pulling them close. "I could never live with myself if anything ever happened to either of you. I know you have both come into your own now, the Saken Circle was activated the moment Alexandria walked back into the house, and there is nothing any of us can do about that now. There's no putting that cat back in the bag. You coming back to Witchwood was always going to happen, it was only a matter of time." She released the girls, holding up her finger. "But, will you both promise me you will be careful? When your mother gets back home, Kat, we will all sit down and have a talk about all of this, okay?"

Alexandria and Kat both nodded wordlessly.

"Good. Well, that's that. I don't know about anyone else, but I need a cup of tea." Mindy walked over to the kettle, picked it up, and filled it at the sink. Through the kitchen window she could see the old cottage out the back. "Oh, and by the way, I'll be moving into the cottage. You'll need a guardian, Alexandria. With school starting, and everything else that's happening around here, you're going to need a hand."

Nina sniffed, giving Kat a warning glare, making her cringe. "All this witchy drama has made me absolutely ravenous," she purred, heading towards the back door.

"You can't just throw food at a problem every time a situation comes up that you don't want to deal with, Nina," Mindy said, watching her friend take down a black parasol hanging on a hook near the door, and popping it open as soon as she walked outside. She was the picture of a genteel lady of a manor house, going on a late afternoon stroll in the woods to gather wildflowers.