Ben erased all evidence of his and Jess’ presence from the hospital security footage and turned the cameras off to allow them time to get off the premises without leaving a trace. Jess took the opportunity to further practise her mesmerisation skills on the guards, proving to Ben that she’d picked up the ability perfectly. It was a fairly easy skill to master.

They were walking back through the hospital and talking about the dreaded combat lesson waiting for them at home when Ben heard a familiar voice behind him. It was a voice that he’d hoped never to hear again.

“Got yourself a girlfriend, Bent-dick? What’s the matter, couldn’t you find one your own age?” Lewis usually sounded spitefully gleeful when he took jabs at Ben but this time he only sounded vicious. Ben attributed it to the humiliating way their last encounter had ended.

Ben turned around, beaming widely at the memory of their last meeting. “Jess, this is Lewis Pratt. Last time we saw each other I knocked him on his arse and he’s still feeling a bit tender about it,” Ben explained, loudly enough for the entire corridor to hear. Bemused faces turned their way as they passed by.

“Hold on, he’s taking the piss out of your name when his name is Pratt?” Jess snorted and Lewis’ face turned a pleasing shade of red.

“Getting your girlfriend to fight your battles for you?” said Lewis. Ben noticed that he wasn’t coming any closer, he didn’t want a repeat of last time. Other members of staff gave them disgruntled looks and haughty sighs as they were forced to walk around the three of them.

“She’s not my girlfriend and I had no trouble fighting you last time, Pratt,” said Ben. He took a step forward and was disappointed to see that Lewis held his ground.

“Oh yeah, like in the car park?”

“What happened in the car park?” asked Jess.

“He caught me in the sun,” Ben explained.

“Oh.” She nodded her understanding.

“Why don’t you tell her about how I used to kick you around at school too,” Lewis said, apparently unaware of how unimpressive that made him. Every word he spoke only made him look like a petty bully which was exactly what he was.

Jess stepped forward and offered him her most dangerous stare, it was the same look she’d had on her face when she’d been tormenting Callum in the woods. “What a big brave boy you are, still going on about things you did in school.”

Lewis glared at her silently and Ben wondered if he was considering using violence against her. It would be pretty hilarious to watch him get thrown around by a girl who was half his size and it would quadruple the embarrassment he clearly still felt from being knocked down by Ben.

“I think you froze his one brain cell,” said Ben.

“More like half. How the hell did he become a doctor?”

That comment brought out Lewis’ temper and he strode right for Jess. Instinctively Ben stood in front of his fledgling, protecting her needlessly. Ben and Lewis stood nose to nose staring daggers of pure hate at one another. Lewis’ warm breath fell on Ben’s face and the smell of beans wafted up his nose. Years of torment had given Ben a valid reason to hate Lewis, but he had to wonder why Lewis had always disliked him so much. Ben had never done anything to him. Some people didn’t need a reason. Some people were dicks by default.

Last time they’d met Ben had decided that Lewis was not worth the minimal effort it would have taken to put him in his place for good. This time things were different. This time Ben was not alone. He had somebody watching; somebody to impress. Jess’ presence had triggered his ego and there was no backing down until he had been confirmed as the more dominant force. Still, there was no need for violence, not when he could mesmerise Lewis to humiliate himself.

The tannoy crackled and a female voice filled the corridor. “Doctor Pratt to the ICU immediately. Doctor Pratt to the ICU immediately.”

Bully or not, Lewis Pratt was a doctor and the moment he heard the message he turned on his heel and ran down the corridor. He had at least one redeeming quality.

“We’ll finish this next time,” he shouted over his shoulder as he ran away.

“You seriously need to inflict some pain on that guy,” Jess said.

“Believe me I’ve considered knocking every one of his teeth down his throat on more than one occasion.”

“Then why don’t you?”

Ben took a moment before answering. He told himself that he restrained himself because he was worried about what Izzy would say, and although that was a factor it wasn’t the whole reason. “If I do it once maybe I won’t be able to stop myself from doing it again. And again and again and again.”

The night of Ostara had come at last. Ben had never even heard of the festival of Ostara until a few weeks or so ago and yet for the last week he’d dreaded its arrival more than anything, except for perhaps that of Teremun. Tonight was the night that Grace would marry Kieron and confirm her choice forever. And instead of doing anything he could to stop the union from taking place, he was sitting in a car around the corner from Grace’s house preparing to steal a book.

“It’s not a book,” Rik said with exhaustion. It was not the first time Ben had mistakenly claimed they were here for a book.

“I keep forgetting because you said what we’re looking for is in the library. You say library—I think books.”

“So what are we looking for?” Jess asked from the backseat of the car. “We can’t find it if we don’t know what to look for.”

“First of all,” said Ben, raising a finger and turning back to face her. “We’re not looking for anything. You’re staying in the car.”

“Fuck off am I,” she argued. He would usually have admired her fierceness but now was not the time for arguing.

“This isn’t one of your lessons where we can back and forth over the best ways to go about preying on victims, this is a dangerous situation. If this scheme goes wrong we could all very well end up dead.” He turned to Rik. “Will they kill us if they catch us?”

Rik considered it for a second. “Probably. They might make us stand one of their pompous trials first. They definitely will actually. Christine loves a trial.”

“See,” Ben said to Jess.

“I’m not sitting in the car like a child.” She threw herself against the seat and folded her arms looking very much like the child she claimed not to be.

Rik looked between the two vampires, clearly not wanting to be stuck in the middle of an argument, and probably wanting to get on with the plan. They didn’t have unlimited time after all. “Somebody has to wait in the car. We might need to make a speedy getaway which means we need a getaway driver.” Before Jess could suggest that Ben sit in the car Rik continued. “I need Ben with me. He’s harder to kill than you are and offers more protection.”

Jess chewed her lips before finally saying, “Fine. But if you’re not back in half hour I’m coming in there.”

“Better make it a full hour—it’s a big library,” said Rik.

Ben gave Jess a grateful smile, happy they’d come to a compromise. “What exactly are we looking for in there then?” he asked.

Even now Rik twiddled with the many crystals that hung around his neck, still reluctant to divulge what it was they searched for. “A piece of parchment,” he said at last.

“You want us to search a large library for a single sheet of parchment,” Ben said in disbelief. They were probably going to need longer than an hour.

“No, not a sheet of parchment. A piece of parchment. The sheet was torn into seven fragments and one of those fragments is in there. The Parchment of Seven.”

A rich chuckle issued through Ben’s lips, dying suddenly when he realised it wasn’t a joke. “Seriously? You want to search a library for a piece of scrap paper. What makes you think it’s even in the library? It could be anywhere. It could be shoved in a drawer with all the other junk for all you know.”

“It is definitely not. We’re not talking about a scrap of paper, or an old receipt. This is the Parchment of Seven. This is the most valuable item in the witch community.” Rik said with certainty.

“It’s so valuable they tore it up,” quipped Ben.

“What the hell is so special about this scrap of parchment?” asked Jess who now sounded supremely bored.

“Okay, right,” Rik said. He twiddled his fingers as he tried to organise his thoughts. “Before you asked me if I was searching for a genie.”

“Yes, and you said it was better than a genie,” replied Jess.

“Well, imagine acquiring all the magnificent power of a genie without having to palaver with one. That’s what I meant.”

“I feel like I’m dealing with a genie right now,” complained Ben and Jess made a small noise of agreement. “Tell us what this parchment is for without all the riddles and metaphors.”

“The Coffin Stone,” Rik said simply. For a second it looked like he was content to leave it at that but then he elaborated. “I’m looking for the Coffin Stone. It’s a legendary stone that looks kind of like a coffin—hence the name. It is said to contain celestial power meaning that if a person were to find it and tap into that power they would elevate their magical abilities to a god-like status.” Rik spoke with a furious excitement that nobody else in the car shared.

“And all this power is just sitting around in a rock?” Ben asked dubiously.

“And somebody got hold of the piece of parchment that said where the rock was and tore it up?” Jess added.

Rik’s face squirmed in irritation. Ben and Jess shared an amused smile. “No, it’s not just sitting around in a rock. Well, actually it kind of is. But it’s not like that! The Stone is hidden. And as for the parchment—”

“Hold on, I’ve heard of the Coffin Stone. It’s not hidden it’s at the bottom of Blue Bell Hill. It’s a tourist attraction,” said Jess. Ben couldn’t tell if she was trying to wind him up or being completely serious.

Rik sighed loudly and banged his head against the dashboard. His dark curls wobbled like congealed spaghetti. “That is not the real Coffin Stone, it’s a fake.” He still had his forehead against the dashboard and was talking to the floor. When he sat upright the bumpy pattern of the plastic was pressed into his skin.

“So where’s the real one?” asked Ben. As amusing as it was to aggravate Rik, he was well aware that they didn’t have the luxury of time. The night would not last forever and the witches would return after midnight.

“There are seven covens in Maidstone,” Rik started.

“That wasn’t what he asked.” A single burning glare from Rik was enough to stop Jess from saying anything further, his patience had bottomed out. She pressed her lips together, shot Ben a mischievous grin, and then fell silent.

“There are seven covens in Maidstone and they don’t all get on too well. Some practise simavita and some practise simamorté.” Jess opened her mouth to ask a question and he held up a finger to stop her. “One is life magic and the other is death magic. They all agreed that the Stone was too dangerous to be used and so they worked together to hide it. To give you an indication of how huge this was, as far as I know, this was the only time in history that all seven covens have worked together on anything.

“One member of each coven took the Stone somewhere secret and concealed it with a spell that drew power from all seven covens. The parchment the spell was written on was then torn into seven pieces and each piece was given to each coven.”

“I’ve a question,” Ben said, raising his hand like he was in school. “Why not just burn the parchment?”

Rik shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe they thought they might want to find the Stone one day.”

“What was to stop the seven people who hid it from telling someone where they hid it?” Jess asked.

“They were burned at the stake as soon as the Stone was hidden. And the location of the Stone died with them. You could know the exact location of the Stone but without the spell to break its concealment you wouldn’t even be able to see it let alone use it.”

“What, they killed their own people?” Ben said suddenly.

“They knew that was part of the plan. The covens took no chances. The sacrifices were chosen at random to make it fair. According to the story a coven sorcerer was one of them.”

“They really should have burned the parchment too,” Ben muttered and Jess agreed with him. The sacrifices were completely undermined while the parchment still existed.

“Yes, well, they didn’t. And it’s a good thing too, otherwise we’d have nothing to search for right now and no way of finding that Stone.”

“Is anybody else thinking that maybe we shouldn’t go looking for the Stone?” asked Jess.

As usual, Ben saw the sound logic of what she was saying. “She’s got a point. If we find that Stone won’t the covens unite again to stop us? I don’t want seven angry covens on my back.”

Rik shook his head. “Growing up I dealt with every single coven in Maidstone. None of them is as strong as they were back in the olden days and they’re even more divided now than they were then. They wouldn’t bother coming together until they’d felt the effects of the Stone for themselves, and by then it will be far too late. Trust me.”

In the silence that followed Rik’s words, Ben considered the dangers associated with the plan. How much power could an old rock really contain? He already had four vampire bloodlines to deal with, or he would have soon, he did not want to add seven covens to the mix. Especially not when one of those covens had Grace.

“Ben, the Coffin Stone will grant us the power to deal with any threat that comes our way. Nobody will ever bully us again,” Rik said.

That was exactly what Ben needed to hear; the exact words to spur him into action. Bullies like Lewis were no longer a threat, but bullies like Teremun loomed ever larger. “All right, let’s do this.”

Ben followed Rik down the alley that ran behind Christine’s garden. Their footfalls on the uneven ground were loud in the quiet night. Some residents had left their wheelie bins in the alleyway making the narrow passage even narrower. They’d get in the way if the pair needed to make a speedy retreat. Rik counted the gates on the left-hand side as they passed them and he came to a stop at the fifth gate. It was a simple, green-painted, wooden gate. The bottom corner of the gate had broken off leaving a triangular gap just large enough for a rat to squeeze through.

“This is the one,” Rik said, staring at the gate and pressing his palms together.

“You don’t look too sure,” Ben told him. He did not want to accidentally break into the wrong house.

“I am sure, however…” he trailed off as he lapsed into a moment of concentration. He extended his hand tentatively like a terrified horror movie victim about to pull back the shower curtain. He brushed his fingers lightly on the wood and his brow creased in confusion before he planted his entire palm on the gate.

“What?” asked Ben.

“The spells are already down.” He stared at the gate like a chess grandmaster trying to deduce the winning move. “Christine would not leave her house defenceless.”

“If the entire Ringlestone Coven was invited here tonight might she have taken the spells down to allow them in?”

Rik shook his head and snapped, “No, you know that’s not how it works. She would allow them through the spells, she wouldn’t need to drop them.”

“I’m just trying to help so we don’t spend the entire night standing around in this alleyway,” Ben shot back.

Rik pulled his hands away from the gate and turned to Ben. Being a vampire, Ben had excellent night vision so he could see the concern written all over Rik’s face as clearly as if it were daytime.

“I can feel the remnants of the spells which suggests they’ve been broken not removed. That means either somebody already broke the spells before us or Christine knows what we’re up to and has laid a trap to catch us.”

“Oh,” said Ben. There really was nothing else to say to that. If a trap had been set then there was only one logical response. “We need to leave then.”

“What? No way. Not without that piece of Seven,” argued Rik. “We went through all the trouble to make your loculum recro, now we’re getting this parchment.”

“I’m not walking into a trap,” Ben said. He didn’t care what reasoning Rik used, he could hand himself over to the coven on his own.

“I’m fairly sure it’s not a trap,” Rik assured him. Ben simply raised his eyebrows and waited for the warlock to continue. “Christine isn’t stupid, and she knows I’m not either. If she were to lay a trap then she wouldn’t break her own spells, the most she’d do is weaken them to make sure I could break them.”

“So you actually think that somebody already came by and broke them? Why? Who?”

Rik lapsed into another contemplative silence as he stared at the gate, trying to discern some answers from the inanimate wood. “I don’t know. But I am going in. You can go back to the car if you want.”

“Oh, like I’m going to let you go in alone,” Ben said, annoyed with Rik on multiple levels. “Just get moving and be careful about it.”

Rik gave the gate a gentle push and waited for it to swing open. It moved with a low groan like an old woman trying to get up. The garden inside was bigger than Ben had been expecting and filled with flowers and shrubs of every variety. He could see why Grace had said she couldn’t live without a garden if she’d grown up with this outside her back door. Looking at the menagerie of flowers around the garden, Ben wondered how they were all thriving considering it was winter. The answer was obvious. Magic.

A fancy garden swing stood next to a bird bath, the seat motionless on the still night. Ben could just imagine Grace sitting on it, her feet tucked beneath her, and a book in her hand. The little glass garden table next to it would have sported a purple Strongbow, her favourite.

Rik nudged Ben in the ribs and dragged him out of his imagination. “Don’t zone out when we’re knee-deep in espionage,” the warlock hissed.

“Sorry, lead the way,” Ben mumbled.

Coming here was a mistake. As Ben followed Rik through the luscious garden he felt Grace’s presence everywhere. She’d probably touched every part of the garden and the house he was about to enter. Knowing that he was in her home and yet she was not here brought an oddly suffocating sensation; a hollow pang of loneliness.

He wished that he would reach the house and she’d just be there. Waiting for him. Her lips would stretch in a familiar smile and her eyes would stare into him in that way that nobody else had ever looked at him before.

Yet beneath that desire and longing was wrath and resentment. She had chosen Kieron. She was out in the woods preparing to marry him right now. He wondered if she had known that she would choose Kieron all along and had simply used Ben for a bit of fun. One last ride on the merry-go-round before she left the park for good.

The wooden steps that led up to the open double doors around the side of the house were bathed in warm orange light. From inside came the sounds of pages being turned quickly. Then a thud, probably a book being tossed aside.

Ben and Rik shared a troubled glance. Somebody had indeed arrived ahead of them and from the sounds of things they were searching the library too.

“What are the chances they’re searching for something completely unrelated to the Coffin Stone?” Ben whispered.

“Absolutely none,” Rik whispered back.

Ben stepped forward ready to lead the way into the house but Rik grabbed his shoulder. “On this occasion, it’s probably best if the person with the magic takes the lead,” he said.

Ben certainly wasn’t going to argue with that since it took him out of the direct line of fire. He stepped back and allowed Rik to lead the way up the wooden steps.

The Mendax’s library was something out of a storybook. Standing in the doorway, Ben could see a labyrinth of floor-to-ceiling bookcases that must have held every book ever written. The bookcases were arranged in overlapping rows that made it impossible to see how far back the room stretched. Every shelf was crammed with so many books it was a wonder they hadn’t broken the wood. That was until the man inside had arrived and unshelved about half of the books that Ben could see.

Discarded books lay in untidy piles all over the floor. Some had lost their pages and some had been torn in half. At Ben’s feet sat a coverless book, its pride removed and its naked pages on display. It was a mystery to Ben why the man needed to destroy so many books in his search.

Just a few feet away, behind a large table that held a cauldron, was a scruffy man. The man hadn’t even noticed Ben and Rik. He had an old journal in his hands and was furiously leafing through the pages, not caring that several of the pages were tearing as he flicked through. One page tore free and floated over his shoulder in a bid to escape his manhandling.

Ben looked at the tatty tracksuit bottoms and the poorly-fitting jumper. He took in the unwashed and overgrown hair and the untidy growth of facial hair on his face, and he just knew the man was one of the Ringles. When Grace had described the coven weeks before this man was almost exactly what Ben had pictured. He only looked about thirty so Ben assumed he was one of Kieron’s cousins, although they didn’t share much of a resemblance.

“Shouldn’t you be at the ceremony, Liam?” Rik asked as he strolled coolly into the library.

Liam jumped and slammed shut the book his hands shut. Beady eyes clocked Rik and then drifted to Ben before sliding warily back to Rik, obviously deciding he was the bigger threat.

“I don’t like weddings,” Liam said and took several steps back.

“How big is this place?” Ben asked. If Liam disappeared behind the bookshelf that was behind him then he might well disappear into the maze-like library.

“Not as big as it looks,” Rik said, obviously catching onto Ben’s point. “Liam here is one of the Ringlestone witches. Don’t you need to be at the ceremony for the merger?”

Liam shook his head and his tongue flicked across his cracked lips. “They can bring me in later. It don’t matter.” His eyes never left Rik. He was anticipating an attack and trying to rustle up a plan of his own.

“It don’t matter,” Rik repeated, sneering at the man’s poor grammar. “What are you up to?”

Liam’s eyes narrowed making his attack all too predictable. Ben knew what was coming even before the strange words left his words and so did Rik. Rik uttered his counter-spell at almost the same time. Their spells collided in the air and a burst of yellow sparks rained down over the wooden floor.

“Pretty,” Ben said and then he moved. By the time Liam’s next spell was halfway out of his mouth, Ben had clamped his jaw shut and was holding him about a foot off the ground. The journal slipped from his grip and landed open the floor. Liam’s legs flailed about uselessly and he punched Ben’s arm as if it was going to make any difference. “I’m a vampire, Liam. Your fists are like raindrops to me.”

“Taunt him later. Mesmerise the truth out of him,” Rik said. He pulled the doors to the garden shut as though he was worried more intruders might turn up.

“Stop struggling!” Ben shouted, staring into Liam’s arms. The witch’s arms dropped to his sides as he stared down at Ben in bewilderment. “When I let you go you will not attack us. You will answer all of our questions truthfully.”

Ben let go of Liam’s jaw and he fell to the floor. His knees buckled from the meagre impact and he had to grab hold of the table and stop himself from falling. Ben waited patiently for Liam’s fiasco to end.

“All yours,” he said to Rik and walked away from the witch.

“Now then, Liam,” said Rik, rubbing his hands together in preparation for the interrogation. “Judging by the atrocious condition of this library and the appalling way you’ve treated these books, I’d hazard a guess that you’re looking for something. Tell us what it is?”

Liam’s fingers twitched and it was clear in the moment before he answered that he was trying to fight the mesmerisation. “A piece of the Parchment of Seven.”

Rik glanced over at Ben, his eyes were dark with worry. The Ringles were looking for the Coffin Stone too. That could only mean bad things.

“The Parchment of Seven, what is that?” Rik said, feigning ignorance for reasons Ben did not understand.

“A bit of parchment torn into seven pieces. One piece was given to each of the covens of Maidstone,” Liam answered.

“And what is written on the parchment?”

“A spell used to hide the Coffin Stone.”

Rik sighed and bowed his head. Ben understood that he’d been pretending not to know about the parchment in the hopes that the Ringles didn’t know its true purpose. Clearly, they did.

“Why is your coven looking for the Stone?”

Liam’s face twisted in indignation and in his anger, he stopped struggling against Ben’s power. “We’re sick of being looked down on by all the other snobby covens—especially yours. We want the Stone to put us at the top of the chain of command. Nobody will treat us like trash anymore.”

“Trust me, Liam, the Stone won’t change that. And it’s not my coven anymore,” said Rik.

“Why are you here defending the place then?”

Rik snorted with laughter and Ben grinned silently with him. The fool actually thought they were here to stop him rather than searching for the Stone themselves.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me?” Liam yelled. He thumped the bookcase that was next to him and served only to hurt his own fist. He gasped and rubbed at his bruising knuckles.

“Calm down,” Ben warned him. Liam glared at Ben letting him know the first chance he got he would try to kill him, if only he hadn’t been mesmerised not to. Ben felt safe in the certainty that chance would never arrive.

“I must admit to some confusion, Liam,” Rik said. “Obviously you aren’t going to find the Stone tonight since you need seven pieces of parchment. So, what do you think will happen to you when Christine and her coven return home?”

Liam’s eyes darted around the trashed library. Damaged books littered the floor and unless there was a spell to reverse all the damage he’d done, there was no way he was going to be able to cover his tracks.

“Nothing will,” said Liam. The wording of Rik’s question allowed him to remain tightlipped.

“Why do you think nothing will happen?” asked Ben. The malicious flare that crept into Liam’s brown eyes brought an unexplainable shadow of dread over Ben.

“Because Zack’s gonna turn the heat on the Bearsted Coven. Then the Penendens and the Ringles will wipe out the Bearsteds and take their parchment too.”

Rik snorted. “You’re delusional if you think Christine is going to fall for any of this nonsense. She’ll see through it before it even starts to take wing. And she’d let maggots consume her eyes before she left a sorcerer like Zack pull the wool over them.”

Liam’s lips curled into an insidious sneer but he said nothing. Rik hadn’t asked a question.

Dreading the answer, Ben stepped forward. “You’ve got plans for Christine, what are they?”

“Christine will die before she gets a chance to ask questions.” Liam’s admission stunned the room into silence.

When Rik broke the silence his voice was almost a whisper. “Do you seriously think that your inbred, vagabond-populated coven stands any chance of killing Christine?” Ben detected a heavy note of respect for the Sorceress whom Rik had chosen to distance himself from. Despite his exile from the Coven, Ben thought there still remained the last vestiges of loyalty.

“Your whole coven is out in the woods getting drunk right now. Drunk people are a piece of piss to take out.”

“Your coven is getting drunk too.”

Liam laughed. “My family drinks spirits for breakfast. None of that snobby wine is even gonna make them tipsy.”

Rik turned away from Liam with utter disbelief written all over his face. They’d come to Christine’s house to steal an old piece of parchment and instead uncovered an assassination attempt. For weeks Ben had been standing guard over Grace and making sure she wasn’t the subject of a Ringlestone plot and Christine had been the target all along.

“Wait, your whole coven is in on this, even Kieron?” Ben demanded. Once again that flicker of hope was ignited.

“Yeah, he was the one who gained their trust,” Liam said with a shrug. And there it was, the very thing that Ben had been hoping for ever since Grace had chosen Kieron—a reason to change her mind. An undeniable reason.

With this ammunition in his arsenal, Kieron was history. Not only would Kieron be well and truly out of the picture, but Grace and her family would be forever grateful to Ben for uncovering the plot and saving them all from the Ringles' scheming.

Rik shook his head. “I know what you’re thinking but don’t get ahead of yourself. If we stop the assassination then we’ll have to explain why we were here.”

Ben couldn’t believe what he was hearing, letting Christine die just to cover their own arses was just plain cold. And only a few minutes before Rik had been defending Christine.

“That doesn’t matter. We have to warn them,” said Ben.

“I know you want Grace—”

“This isn’t all about Grace. An innocent woman is going to be murdered. I know Christine is an annoying, snooty, condescending bitch, but she’s still innocent by most standards. She doesn’t deserve to be murdered.”

“Ben…”

“The Ringles are after the Stone too. Does it not serve our purposes better to warn Christine and let her stop them?”

Stumped by Ben’s logic Rik had no reply. Liam, on the other hand, did. “You’re looking for the Stone too? Just you two? What are you up to?”

Rik wheeled around to face Liam again, a new fire in his eyes. “How close are you to finding the Stone?” he demanded.

“We’ve got two pieces of seven already.” It was clear that Liam hated himself for so freely giving away his coven’s secrets.

“Do you know where the Penenden piece is?”

He shook his head. “No.” His eyes betrayed the nuanced truth by sliding down and pointing out the journal that had been in his hands when Ben and Rik had arrived.

Ben strolled forward slowly, a knowing smile stretching his lips. “But you found what you need to find it didn’t you?”

Liam groaned in defeat as Ben squatted down in front of him. “Yes,” he confessed at the same time as Ben’s hands closed over the journal. “I strongly suspect that this book has the answer you need,” Ben told Rik.

Rik reached out for the journal and Ben held it out of his reach.

“What are you doing?” the warlock asked, his tone lacking any friendliness.

“We’re not letting them murder Christine,” Ben said.

“This isn’t about Christine. You want to stop the wedding. Ben, she chose him, get over it.”

“No,” Ben said, and he very nearly stamped his foot like an angry child. “If you want this book then we are going to stop that ceremony.”

Rik closed his eyes and stepped away from the situation. His breathing was heavy and laboured as he ran through his options. Ben stared at the warlock’s back and wondered if his friend was considering attacking him. It was odd that his mind went straight to suspecting betrayal, but then betrayal was something with which he was becoming more acquainted every passing week.

“We can tell them we came to the house because I wanted to stop the wedding. They don’t need to know what we were really doing here. I’ll mesmerise Liam to forget everything he’s heard.”

“Fine,” Rik said softly. “The ceremony takes a few hours. It won’t be finalised until midnight so we still have plenty of time to stop it yet. If we don’t get the parchment before we stop the ceremony then we’ll never get another chance. Christine will lock this place down with more spells than you could fit in a bottomless bag. Right now we can take the parchment and blame it on the Ringles.”

“You will not!’ Liam objected but neither of them paid him any attention.

“We get the pieces of seven, the one here and the two he has.” Rik pointed right at the indignant witch. “And then we go and stop the ceremony. Deal?” Rik held out his hand, palm up, fully expecting Ben to accept his terms.

“You promise me absolutely that the ceremony will not be finished until midnight.”

“I swear it. Mesmerise me if you must.”

Ben simply nodded. He trusted Rik enough not to need to mesmerise him and he hoped that trust would never fade. “Deal,” he said and placed the journal in Rik’s outstretched hand.