Wicked Game, Return of The Effra 2

By Lindsey J Parsons

From the inside of the open locket a pair of blue eyes gazed out from the face of a young girl, she had an amused expression and long wavy brown hair. A fierce ache clawed at Damian's chest as he looked upon this face, the face of Samantha White. He tore his eyes away and gently snapped the locket shut, closing his fingers around it and pressing his fist against his heart.
"Please come back to me Sam," the words formed silently on his lips, "I cannot exist without you."
In the hope of getting some closure on her old life, Sam has travelled back to her own world one last time, but events from the night of her previous departure are set to make any hope of her returning to Damian’s world impossible...
Wicked Game is the second instalment in Lindsey J Parsons' Return of The Effra trilogy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lindsey J Parsons
• Release date: Sep 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9780957283879

Lindsey J Parsons

"My head has always been crammed full of horses, dragons, magic, and adventure, sword fights, castles, and impossible quests. Stories materialise when I least expect them to and take over my mind, desperate to get out. Finally a few years ago I decided to immortalize them in ink and so I write fantasy, because for me, fantasy is the ultimate escape."Born in Stratford upon Avon, UK, Lindsey J Parsons grew up in nearby Solihull. She now lives in a crumbly old farm house in a small village in Warwickshire with her three children and an assortment of animal friends. She enjoys reading, writing, horseback riding, archery and looking after the numerous animals that live with her.Lindsey started her writing career in 2009 and published her first book 'Vortex' three years later

Book preview

Return of The Effra

A Note From The Author

Legend

Prologue

Request

Epilogue

Glossary of Elven Words and Phrases.

Vortex

About the Author

Acknowledgements

Return of The Effra Trilogy

Vortex

Wicked Game

And coming soon

Shegal

A note from the author

Please be aware, that although not discussed in any depth, the subject of child abuse is briefly brought up within this story.

In the end, is the price we

have to pay for love

too great?

Prologue

P.C. Robert Cartwright shifted uncomfortably and glanced sideways at his partner Jake Morris. Jake was curled up in a corner, shivering on a scattering of filthy damp straw. He didn’t look well, in fact, Rob, as he was known to his friends, was becoming very worried about him. The dank smell of the cell filled his nostrils, but he hardly noticed it, unlike the cold damp of his soiled uniform and the reek of human excrement from the full bucket by the door.

Rob shivered; it had been nearly two months since the night of the robbery, and the night this whole nightmare started. On that awful night they were on a late shift, he had been saddled with Jake who was still a ‘wet behind the ears’ rookie. He hadn’t minded that, Jake could be irritating at times, but he was a decent kid at heart.

At around eleven, a call came through informing them an alarm had gone off at The Exford Shooting Range. They had been checking a report out of some teenagers spraying graffiti on a bus shelter, but the kids had long since disappeared, so Rob radioed in that they were available to take the call. Control instructed them to head south on the road to Exford and to stop and check anyone travelling north, away from the Shooting Range.

The thought of a big investigation had Jake all fired up, but as Rob had pointed out all they were doing was basic legwork. Any chance of them being anywhere near the action was extremely remote. As it was, the most exciting bit of action they encountered was a young couple trying to make out in the back of a clapped out old Mini.

As they reached the driveway to the range, Rob asked Jake to radio their position, but before Jake could even open his mouth the blinding lights of a small box van appeared and came hurtling towards them. Closely following the van came a small lorry being pursued by a police car with all its lights flashing and its siren blaring.

Rob immediately swung the car round and set off after them with his lights flashing too. Jake, positively exploding with excitement, radioed control that they were in pursuit.

And so started a break neck chase along a narrow winding road across the moor. Overtaking was impossible, they raced past the gateway where they’d seen the Mini parked and carried on towards Porlock. Suddenly the lorry and the van had dived left off the road and raced away across the open moorland. Rob cursed as the car almost bottomed out going through the gateway and fought to keep it in a straight line as they bounced over the rough ground after the other vehicles.

What happened next, even now with all that had happened since, they still found difficult to understand. It had been a new moon that night, and complete darkness shrouded the moor, the only light coming from the vehicles up ahead. Rob couldn’t see the box van hidden in front of the larger lorry, but the lorry itself was clearly visible in the lights of the police car in front of him. Out of nowhere a host of small bolts of lightning lit up the sky. Rob remembered blinking when right before his eyes the lorry seemed to just vanish, closely followed by the police car. Jake had pointed at the windscreen open mouthed as Rob rammed his foot on the brakes. Their car had skidded forward, and then blown into the air it whipped around at incredible speed. Pinned in their seats by the force as the car spun like a top, they sat helpless while an immense pressure caused their eyes to bulge and made it impossible to breath.

In what seemed like forever but was probably less than a few seconds the car had crashed to the ground, jerking all the breath out of Rob. Winded he remembered seeing a large stone block racing towards them and realising at the last second they were going to hit it, had tried in vain to steer the car away. The right side of the car slammed into the block causing it to lurch off to the left where it finally came to a stop. One of their headlights had gone out, and the other one was dipped, but it shone brightly enough to light up the other police car that was now parked sideways on to them a short distance away.

Rob remembered the pain in his shoulder where the impact had caused him to crash into the driver’s door. Jake gasped, turning to ask him if he was all right, seconds before his whole body reeled in agony causing him to throw up all over the steering wheel. As he wiped his mouth on his sleeve, he saw Mark Grogen and Roger James from Minehead get out of the other car. Mark was closest, and Rob could see he’d got a truncheon in his right hand. He could clearly see the look of surprise on Mark’s face as the first arrow hit him in the centre of his chest, embedding itself in his stab vest. Mark staggered back a step giving Rob a clear view of Roger just as an arrow hit him in the face and he fell back out of sight behind their car. Mark turned his head to see what had happened to his partner, when a second arrow hit him in the neck. He collapsed beside the car blood gurgling from his mouth and the wound in his neck.

Jake had reached for the door handle, wanting to rush to Mark’s assistance, but Rob grabbed his arm just in time. A hailstorm of arrows rained down on their car, bouncing off the bonnet in front of their eyes. One smashed the back window and impaled itself in the back seat. They both sat rooted to the spot as Mark’s body twitched for the last time.

Out of the dark, men dressed in suits of mail and red tabards with gold crowns embossed on the front, appeared. They encircled the car, bows drawn, arrows trained on the occupants. They both put up their hands, and slowly got out of the car. With their hands tied behind their backs, their captors marched them across the moor to a large castle. Even though Rob knew the area well, he had never seen or heard of this castle before. Their captors then dragged them down into the castle’s dungeons and locked them in this cell.

That had been the start of it. Nothing happened during the first two weeks, and Rob had begun to wonder if they had forgotten about them. They shared a large open cell with two other men, who sat in different areas ignoring each other and everyone else. Ingrained with filth, they wore dirty rags for clothes and nothing on their feet. Both he and Jake had tried to talk to them with no success. A piece of stale bread and a cup of water each was pushed through the door twice a day, meaning they lived with constant hunger. A metal pail sat by the door for them to use as a toilet, but the guards emptied it so infrequently that most of the time the smell became overpowering.

After that first quiet fortnight, the worst of the ordeal started. They took Jake first. A couple of the guards hauled the poor kid away and then hours later they threw him back into the cell, a gibbering wreck. Rob had dragged him over to the corner where a small scattering of straw covered the stone floor and did his best to comfort him, but it took most of the night before Jake, shaking and distressed, finally settled down.

Next day it had been Rob’s turn. They hauled him up numerous flights of stairs and shoved him to the floor in a large hall. That was when he first saw the woman. He’d slowly risen, taking in the room, the large stone fireplace to the right, the scattering of tables and chairs around the sides and the stage at the far end. Centre stage, a large wooden chair had pride of place. Heavily carved, with big sweeping arms and a high back that rose to a point in the middle, flanked either side by carved spearheads. The woman, head held high and defiant, sat in this chair, framed by her long, dark hair. The blood red dress she wore clung to her figure in a very flattering way, and her whole demeanour screamed of power. Her smooth, clear skin had a pale complexion, but more than anything, it was her eyes he would never forget. Emerald green and sparkling like jewels, they stared down at him with contempt and scorn. He had gazed up into them that first time, innocent of their power. Within seconds, white-hot pain burned right through to his core, causing him to fall back to his knees.

Do not dare to stand in my presence. Do you not realise who I am?

The pain stopped leaving Rob gasping.

I need answers from you, do not lie to me Robert Cartwright because I can reach inside your mind and drag your thoughts out. I will know whether you speak the truth or not.

Rob felt cold, clammy sweat beading his forehead and sticking his shirt to his back. There had followed a steady stream of questions, most of which sounded like the ranting of a crazy person.

These weapons you call rifles, why, when they have the ability to blast a hole through a soldier’s breast plate, do they not have the power to destroy the demon?

The supreme commander of my army tells me in your world you have weapons of far greater power, tell me about them.

Will these weapons defeat the demon?

In your friend’s feeble mind I saw magical weapons, glowing swords and bright beams of light that burn through anything they touch. Tell me about these.

At first he tried to defy her by refusing to answer, but that only brought about the white-hot burning, even when he refused to look at those eyes. He tried reasoning with her, but she seemed convinced that there was some kind of demon out there bent on destroying her. He tried to explain that from what he could gather, the weapons she thought she’d seen in Jake’s mind were probably fantasy. He tried to describe films and television and how with tricks of the camera you could construct fictitious creations. Nothing he said satisfied her and time and again he writhed in agony on the floor.

Weeks rolled by, sometimes days would pass and they would be left alone and then inevitably she would have one or other of them dragged up to the hall so she could try and torment and torture the answers she needed out of them. Rob would have gladly given her what she wanted if he could understand exactly what it was. From what he could gather, they had gone into battle against an enemy she called The Alliance, and they had some kind of being she thought was a demon fighting for them. They had imagined they could defeat it with rifles they’d stolen in a series of gun shop robberies, but this had failed. Now she wanted to know what other weapons were out there and if any of these could destroy this demon enemy.

Rob had taken to marking the passing of the days on the cell wall with a piece of flint he’d found on the floor. What really puzzled and worried him was why no one had found them yet. Why hadn’t the police force mounted a rescue? How come no one had found this enormous castle, full of all these insane people, yet? Surely, after their disappearance the force would have mounted a search of the surrounding area, which would have easily included this place?

Once again as Rob sat worrying about Jake, wondering how he could help him, two soldiers appeared. They wore the red tunics with the emblem of the gold crown on and red leather trousers. They roughly man handled Rob up to the hall again and dumped him on the ground. He crouched quietly not wishing to draw attention to himself. Today the woman was wearing a brightly coloured, heavily beaded tunic. Deep in conversation with a man dressed in black jeans and a brown leather jacket, she didn’t look up. Rob had seen this man before too. He had a scar across his jaw, scruffy brown hair and an arrogant attitude, but what stood out the most, unlike all these other crazy people; he wore normal, modern clothing.

My Queen, it is a futile waste of your time keep questioning these men. There is nothing they can tell you that I don’t also know. There are much more powerful weapons in the other world, but none of them are magical, nothing in that world is in the slightest bit magical.

He marched back and forth in front of her as he spoke, but then stopping he went down on one knee beside her chair.

In a few more new moons the dust will have settled, and if you send me back I will secure these more powerful weapons for you.

This is all well and good Marcus, but they are building fortresses along our borders, what if they decide to invade in the meantime?

It is not their way to attack unprovoked, my Queen, do not worry about that. He stood up and resumed his pacing. My spies tell me that they sent the girl, Sam, back through a vortex last new moon and ever since then the demon has been moping around. Etienne has been granted permission by the other members of The Alliance to start up one more vortex on the night of the next new moon. They are hoping the girl will come back, but it’s widely believed she will not return. If she doesn’t, it will destroy the demon, although he may take the opportunity to go back through the vortex to get her. Either way it solves our problem. If the girl does come back the elves are determined to prevent the demon from influencing her. Ameron has made it quite clear where the elves stand. I can see a big rift opening up, Ameron will lead Venishray against Penrithen to force Etienne to banish the demon. Being the two most powerful leaders it will destroy The Alliance completely. In any case, they will be busy for a while bickering between themselves. This will give us plenty of time to secure more powerful weapons.

The woman frowned and started tapping her chin with her finger. I’m not so sure Marcus, Ameron values the protection of The Alliance too much to risk destroying it without a good reason. If Etienne’s love of the demon hasn’t caused the rift yet, I can’t see that it will now. However, I may have discovered the push Ameron needs, something to remind him of how dangerous the demon is, a wedge to crack The Alliance apart.

Marcus stopped pacing, That sounds intriguing.

Yes, something I found buried deep in the archives, I will show you later, we will need to study it carefully. If it works, you may not need to use the vortex again.

Marcus went down on one knee again. There are so many other items we could make use of in that world, my Queen. I am sure I can bring you many useful and wondrous presents if you allowed me to go back there once more.

I have seen something of these items you talk about in the minds of these two men. Something they call electricity, and those horseless carriages you and Arnuld came back in. I would be interested in finding out a lot more about this world.

The woman then caught sight of Rob crouching half way down the hall.

Take him away back to the dungeon, I have no use for him today.

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand and the two guards pulled him to his feet and roughly pushed him back out and down to the dungeon. Rob heaved a sigh of relief that she hadn’t decided to question him.

Remand

Go on, do it, please!

Sam screamed the words, but the sound wouldn’t come. Her eyes bulged as she gasped for breath, a red mist cloaking her vision. The pressure on her throat increased, crushing her windpipe, causing the blood to pound inside her skull. Her hands scrabbled to grab hold of something, to try and release Nina’s grip on her neck, but her mind screamed out for an easy end to her misery.

You’re not worth it, pathetic cry baby. Nina spit the words in Sam’s face, kneeing her in the ribs as she pushed herself sideways off the bottom bunk. She flipped her lanky blonde hair back from her face and sneered down at the bottom bunk. Sam gulped in air, tears rolling from her bloodshot eyes as she watched her attacker climb back onto the top bunk.

Make another sound and I promise I’ll finish it next time, Nina thumped down hard on her bed, her large body making the springs screech. Sam lay on her back gazing up at the underside of the top bunk, waves of hopelessness crashing over her. It was late at night, well after lights out. Sam had lain awake for hours desperately trying to fall asleep; she needed to have one of those ‘dreams,’ like the ones that had started it all. She’d give anything to have one of those tonight, but sleep eluded her.

It was the dreams that had brought Damian into her life. Damian had turned her life around and given her a chance of a future full of love, family and friends in a world laced with music, happiness and laughter. There were enemies too, danger, hatred and dark threats, but she had Damian to protect her and keep her safe. Unfortunately, he had failed to protect her from her own stupidity. It wasn’t for the want of trying though, every stupid thing she’d done he’d pleaded and begged her not to. She’d had everything she could have ever wanted and thrown it all away.

Every night for the past three weeks she’d tried to fall into the sort of deep sleep that had transported her before, in a kind of ghost form, to Damian’s world. But to no avail, nights full of restless tossing and turning left her feeling tired. Any sleep she did achieve was short lived and full of nightmares.

Tonight was her last chance; tomorrow Damian would be heading out with Etienne, Richard and Alex to set up the Vortex, the doorway for her to return to them. If she could dream herself to him, like she had those times before, she could explain what had happened. But what good would explaining do? Even if they put off creating the Vortex until she had a chance of using it, it would be many years before that chance came around.

She stifled a sob as tears rolled down her face soaking her flat lumpy excuse for a pillow. Gritting her teeth she took a deep breath, Nina’s threat still ringing in her ears, the raw bruises still burning her throat.

What would Damian think when she didn’t walk out of the Vortex tomorrow night? Would he think she didn’t want him anymore? Surely he knew how much she loved him that if there was a way she would be there?

When Sam had returned to her own world, the world she’d grown up in, lived her whole life in up until a couple months ago, she hadn’t considered for a moment what possible repercussions there might be from the night of her departure.

The night she’d arrived back through the Vortex while she sat waiting for the approaching dawn, the madness of returning had hit her. Cold and so very alone she sat leaning against a tree with only the rustling and munching of sheep for company, but even then her thoughts were only about how she was going to miss Damian during the next month until she could return. ‘Hindsight is a wonderful thing,’ she had heard that phrase enough times. If she had known then what she knew now she would have been a lot more careful… No, actually she would never have come back at all.

As the sun rose that morning, she had stood and taken stock of her surroundings. She would need to be able to find that same place on the night of the next new moon. Once sure she would remember the spot, she’d set off in the direction of a large expanse of light pollution she’d seen the night before. As the sun reached its highest point, she came across a busy main road heading westward. By evening, the countryside around her had changed from the wide-open landscape of The Peak District National Park to the built up suburbs of the outer reaches of the city of Manchester.

With a little trepidation, Sam had used the debit card she’d had in her pocket that night a month ago, in a cash machine at a petrol station. Thankfully it worked fine, and she was able to draw out fifty pounds, with which she bought sandwiches and a bottle of coke. It seemed very strange to be drinking coke from a plastic bottle again. The assistant told her there would be a bus into the city centre in ten minutes from the end of the road.

On arriving in the city, she had checked into The Ramada hotel in a smart area within striking distance of the shopping centre. She decided to stop for only a couple of nights while she planned her first move and then find somewhere cheaper. The university was closest, she hoped they hadn’t cleaned out her room yet and if they had that her friend Anny would have rescued some of her stuff. The thought of surprising Anny had made her giggle and cheered her up. After that her plans included visiting her father’s grave. Jo White had passed away last spring, barely nine months ago, and she still found it hard to believe he’d gone. As her only parent for most of her life, he’d left a massive gap and the need to visit his grave one last time had fuelled her desire to return. She also wanted to collect a few keepsakes from her old home. This now belonged to her stepmother Karen, a woman her dad had married only a couple of years before his death. They hadn’t had a close relationship, but she felt sure Karen would welcome her and allow her to take her things.

The hotel food had been really nice, but not feeling hungry she sat pushing it around her plate. The room was great, with a big double bed and a shower, all the same, Sam hadn’t slept well, tossing and turning unable to settle to sleep properly. It had been the first night without Damian for over a week and she missed him more than she thought possible.

By the next morning Sam felt tired and irritable, she couldn’t shake the feeling there was something wrong. After a shower and some breakfast, she headed for the shops, to buy herself some more clothes and other essential items. The morning had passed slowly while Sam tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on the job at hand.

It happened when she returned to the hotel just after one o’clock. Heading through reception she made straight for the lifts back to her room. As she stood waiting for the lift to arrive, two men came over and stood either side of her.

Miss White?

She turned around shocked to hear her name.

I’m arresting you on suspicion of theft of firearms, kidnapping and the murder of Paul Murray.

The plain clothes policeman continued by reading her rights. The other man stepped forward and roughly placed a set of handcuffs on her wrists. Sam just stood open mouthed until they shoved her heavy handed in the direction of the front doors.

It had been her debit card that had done it. The police had placed tabs on it in the hope she may use it and so lead them to her. The whole case had been very high profile. Not because of the theft of a number of rifles and the murder of a retired champion marksman. But because on the night of the robbery and the murder, four policemen and two police cars that had been in pursuit of some suspects, had totally vanished. Disappeared without a trace and extensive investigations had been unable to come up with one clue as to their whereabouts. The only evidence they had was a fuzzy CCTV tape showing three men and a girl in the gun shop at the time the robbery and murder had taken place, and an abandoned car discovered close to where the disappearances had occurred. The car, an old red Mini, was registered to a Samantha White. Fingerprints left all over the gun shop matched fingerprints found in the Mini and were also believed to belong to Sam. Even more damning were large traces of the murdered man’s blood found in the abandoned car. When it became clear that the girl on the tape was Sam, she’d been promoted straight to number one suspect.

With no plausible explanation for what had happened, Sam had been remanded in custody awaiting trial. As she had already been missing for a month, bail was denied.

The sound of Nina’s muffled snores drifted down from above and Sam relaxed a little. Once asleep Nina stayed that way until the five thirty wake-up call. Life in the prison had become a constant round of dodging trouble and keeping her head down. The prison, an old Victorian building, was badly understaffed, which meant the inmates stayed locked in their cells far longer than the Home Office recommendation. That meant Sam had to spend most of her time trying to be invisible so as not to draw Nina’s attention. Nina’s favourite way to pass the time had become torturing Sam.

With no possible way of getting back to the spot where they would conjure the vortex, Sam’s only hope of seeing Damian again was in a dream state, and the right kind of deep sleep just wouldn’t come. If she slept at all her dreams now were restless nightmares about being left behind in the dark, causing her to wake screaming, which would also rouse and provoke Nina.

Sam lay staring at the underside of the top bunk, a numb ache clutching her heart, desolation filling her soul.

Frustration

Alex clenched his fists at his side as he stared out across the empty courtyard. Time was short now and he’d been waiting for his brother for most of the morning. Richard had been out on patrol, but he should have returned last night. The rest of the patrol were back, he must have stopped off somewhere on the way.

‘He went to see Cassandra, I bet, he’s been doing that a lot recently,’ Alex thought. ‘But why hasn’t he got back here yet, today of all days? Surely he could’ve dragged himself away from her by now? This is important.’

He turned back inside and started pacing the length of the corridor outside Shrilate’s stall. He had already groomed the stallion’s coat to a highly polished shine and was now distracting him from his hay with a constant display of fidgeting. Shrilate twitched his coal black ears and turned his head towards the door. A moment later, Alex heard the sound of someone approaching and Richard appeared in the doorway leading Shadow, his iron-grey horse and humming to his self.

Where have you been? I’ve been waiting here for you since the sun came up.

Richard looked surprised. I didn’t know I was supposed to be meeting you, you never said. He led Shadow into a stall and started taking his tack off. I’ll get you a feed, but you’ve got to stay in because we need to go out again later, sorry, he said, easing the horse’s bridle over his ears and giving them an affectionate rub.

Here, I’ve made him a feed already. We need to talk.

Alex produced a bucket and poured the contents into Shadow’s manger, absentmindedly running his hand down the horse’s neck before following Richard to the tack room.

Picking up a cloth Richard dunked it in a water butt. Then after wringing it out he started to wipe a week and a half’s worth of grime off Shadow’s tack.

Do you have to do that now? We need to discuss what we’re going to do, you know what’s going to happen tonight don’t you?

I’ve been away for over a week on patrol. This needs cleaning, I need to change out of these dirty clothes, I need to get something to eat, and a nap would be nice. I will be lucky to achieve all of that before we have to leave, so yes I do have to do this now.

Richard raised an eyebrow at his brother. Alex’s, electric blue eyes blazed in their sockets as he ran his hands through his shoulder length blonde hair, which, uncharacteristically unkempt, made him look more like their father.

Leave that then, I’ll do it while you eat and change.

Alex could see how tired Richard looked, and although they were wearing the same black Penrithian guard uniform, Richard’s leather trousers were splattered with mud. His black, collarless shirt looked dusty and stained, and his leather trench coat had what looked like horse slobber all down the front. He had the same blonde hair and blue eyes as Alex and their father, but he kept his hair shorter, and his eyes didn’t burn with the same fire, they smouldered with a deep, intense thoughtfulness. Today though, they just looked plain tired. He placed the cloth back on a self.

I’ve finished it now, he sighed. What did you want to talk about?

Well isn’t that obvious? Damian. Alex rolled his eyes. If Sam doesn’t come back tonight, you know what he’ll do, don’t you? He’ll try to go too.

So, what do you expect me to do about it? Richard shrugged.

We’ve got to try and stop him, haven’t we?

Even if I wanted to stop him, and we both combined all the magical ability we could muster, we still wouldn’t have a hope of succeeding, Richard said shaking his head. Anyway I don’t want to stop him. If it was me if it was Cassandra, I would have to go, and I wouldn’t want anyone to stand in my way.

I know he’s in love with Sam, and all that, but there’s loads of girls out there, surely he could find someone else?

Alex, you are my brother, and I love you dearly, but you are so shallow even a gnat couldn’t drown.

But if he goes, he will never be able to come back. The elves would never agree to opening the vortex to bring the Shegal back.

Richard smiled at Alex’s look of consternation.

One day it’ll happen, even you will fall in love.

I hope not, it doesn’t look like it’s much fun.

If it was Cassandra, I would have to go, to find out why she hadn’t come back. To make sure she was all right and happy that nothing bad had happened to her. I couldn’t live the rest of my life not knowing, always wondering if she had needed me if she had been waiting for me to come and save her from some danger. If she were trapped somewhere. It would drive me insane, he paused before continuing.

It will be worse for Damian, he is immortal, he will have to live for the rest of eternity not knowing. Immortal beings usually only ever have one mate; they aren’t as fickle as us humans. That’s why the elves usually commit suicide if their soul partners die for whatever reason, they can’t bear the thought of living for eternity with the loss and grief. It’s what makes them such ferocious fighters, they have so much more to lose if they die.

Richard’s voice went so quiet Alex had to strain to hear him.

It would be worse for Damian because he cannot die, he could never end it, ever.

But he’s my brother, I love him, and I don’t want to lose him.

He’s my brother too, I love him as well, and I couldn’t bear to see him suffer like that. You know how he’s been this last month, shut away in Sam’s room, only appearing when he’s on duty, hardly speaking to anyone.

He’d get over it, wouldn’t he?

Alex, you know as well as I do he would never get over it. Anyway, we are jumping to conclusions; Sam will come walking out of the vortex as soon as we start it up. Just wait and see.

Richard smiled. Father couldn’t risk opening the vortex to bring back the Shegal, but if there was another reason, maybe it would be justified, he said winking at Alex.

Alex stared at his brother puzzled before realisation finally dawned.

Oooh…!

Locket

His finger brushed against the smooth edge of the little silver locket, releasing the clasp so it lay open in his pale palm. Staring out from inside was a man with wavy, dark brown hair and blue eyes that danced with amusement. It was the face of Joe White, a man Damian would have loved to have met. But Joe had died last spring, well before Damian had been blasted into his world.

What would Joe have thought of him? Would he have thought Damian was a suitable suitor for his daughter? He doubted very much that Joe would’ve been pleased with his daughter’s choice of a partner. After all, would any parent really want their daughter partnered with a shegal, a demonic spirit? A demon cursed with a conscience that forced him to help those in need or trouble to such an extent he gave up everything that came into his possession, a being with silver eyes, bat like wings and two three inch horns protruding from his