46

I was alone for a matter of minutes. They didn't even bother to knock, just traipsed in, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

Not that I minded. The pack brought comfort and unconditional acceptance. I might have been feeling physically relaxed, but I was more than a little bit conflicted by what had just happened with Thomas.

I mean, there was no denying how well we fit together, and he was definitely a willing participant, but that didn't excuse it. It made it worse.

Thomas had been clear about his intentions since we met. Now I had gone and encouraged him when I still had unresolved feelings for Stephen.

And then there was Lucas, what was between us was definitely caused by the pack bond, or so I was desperate to convince myself. Another yearning that I was going to have to quash.

Speaking of which, when I stepped out of the bedroom, my Alpha was handing out a plate of delicious smelling bacon sandwiches. He'd been making good use of the time to really embrace his responsibility to care for the pack.

I sat on the floor with the others and ate. No one sat on the armchair.

Awkward.

"Where is Stephen," I asked, around a mouthful of tasty bacon, unable to get my fake ex-boyfriend out of my head due to an irritating surge of guilt.

"He stayed behind to care for Mary."

Great, now I really felt like scum. Leading Thomas and Stephen on like that. I had to put an end to it, soon.

A huge yawn from Evan set us all off.

Emily tried to suggest that she would stand guard, but she needed rest as much as any of us. I needed her to be sharp for whatever was coming.

As a compromise, we agreed to stay together while we slept. Security in numbers or something like that.

Emily and I shared the bed. The men took the bedroom floor. Sometime later, I felt Evan, and then Lucas, climb into bed with us. I didn't mind. The warmth and security of the pack bond was keeping the nightmares at bay.

I felt something small, rough and scratchy under the pillow just as I was drifting off, but it wasn't enough to halt the long-overdue sleep from pulling me under.

*****

"Eeek," I screeched, trying to untangle myself from three sets of limbs that had woven themselves around me during the night.

Poppet.

I moved my arm and the thing moved with me. Finally I pulled my arm from under the pillow. The poppet was attached to my finger by a loop of coarse hair that had unwound from its leg. I flung it back to the top of the bed and backed away.

Emily jumped out without any trouble, even though she'd been as tightly ensconced as the rest of us. Somehow she managed to land back to the bed and facing the door, in a full on battle stance.

If I came through that door, I would turn straight back around. Emily was fierce even straight out of bed. How the hell did she do that?

The absence of one person loosened up the mix of bodies. I scurried away from my pillow across the bed. Who I scrambled over to get away from the nasty little thing that agitated my skin was of the least consequence.

Lucas and Evan were only just stirring, their movements languid but relaxed. I couldn't help but envy them. It had been one of the most restful night's sleep I'd had for months. Finally, my anxiety infiltrated their fog of sleep through the bond and Lucas and Evan both sat up and looked around for the threat. Why could no one else sense the power emanating from that thing?

"There!" I screeched, my voice not having recovered from the fright of finding that thing attached to me. The others followed my pointed finger. It still trembled.

"Yuk," said Emily, "is that what I think it is?"

Moving around the bed slowly, unable to tear her eyes away, she shifted the pillow that half obscured the figure. The poppet lay there like an oddly deformed child's toy, limbs set at crooked angles and pasty body, bloated and grey.

This one was different from the hanging poppets in the cemetery. Its limbs were the same coarse black hair, but clay had been crudely moulded to its body and head. Crosses marked where the eyes and mouth should be. The result was even more disturbing.

"Well it certainly ain't no teddy bear," Lucas supplied, unhelpfully.

"Don't touch that thing," I shouted, as Emily reached towards it. She looked at me oddly, and then shrugged and stepped back.

Glancing round the room, my eyes landed on Stephen's hair comb. I used it to spear the poppet's unravelled leg. We all peered at the nasty little thing as I held it away from me suspended on the tooth of Stephen's comb.

"Um, any ideas?"

Lucas looked at me, a mixture of disgust and bemusement on his face.

"Not really my expertise," he said.

Evan's eyebrows were drawn tight as he considered the possibilities, his mouth scrunched into an adorable pout. "Ok, I think I've got it. Poppets are made in the likeness of somebody that a witch wants to influence in some way. It's not necessarily evil. They can be made as a charm to bring luck, or aid fertility, that kind of thing," he said.

"I don't think that this would help anybody with that."

I looked at the poppet doubtfully. Its waxy little face, the cross-stitched eyes giving it an empty, eerie bearing. Nope, there was no way that anybody was getting amorous with this thing around.

But I had to admit, there was something different about the power that this one gave off. When we had stumbled upon the tree with the hanging poppets, an unmistakable air of menace surrounded the place. Now, all I could sense was strength, its function a mystery. Could someone have put this here to protect me? It seemed unlikely considering our current predicament with the coven.

"There is another possibility. What if someone in the coven is using this as a channel?"

"What do you mean?"

"If a witch lacks the power required for the kind of spell that they want to cast, they need a channel. Usually it's a familiar, like a cat or dog. Those work the best because they can be trained and can also be kept as pets. Older magic can be channelled through inanimate objects like poppets. The witch stores up their magic over time in one object, and then employs it in a difficult spell – effectively calling on more magic than they would by innate ability."

"It's a cheat. What kind of spell needs a greater than average amount of magic?"

"Any spell that has a negative intention on its target," Evan answered.

"Great. Anything else I need to know? What about the ones that are meant as charms?"

"Well, that's the strange thing about it, the only other use for poppets is as a long term influence in someone's life. In that capacity, they need a large amount of stored up magic to stay in effect over the period of use. Sometimes this is years, in the case of charms for good health, fertility and the like. I can't see how that could be the case here, because this is the first night you've been back here in weeks, isn't it?"

As Evan finished speaking, a spark of unease in my belly started growing until a hot burning fear consumed my insides. I looked at Emily to see my expression of horror reflected back at me.

"Stephen," we uttered in unison.

The poppet wasn't meant for me. It had nothing to do with our abduction by the coven. This grotesque creepy little thing was meant for Stephen. Someone had it in for him, and he was on his own in London with only an ill old lady for company.

I scrabbled around for my phone, but Emily was already on it. Her phone at her ear, the look of anxiety on her usually unreadable face sent a whole new wash of fear through me.

Emily shook her head. Shit. Where the hell was he?

Before I could think of what to do next, Emily was already calling someone else. She turned away to speak. Small jerky movements of the back of her head suggested an animated conversation.

"Someone's going to check on the house," Emily said, turning to reveal an inscrutable face having reverted to her professional mask.

"Who? We don't know who has it in for Stephen. How do you know you can trust them?"

"You can trust them."

And that was the end of that.

Eek, things are getting witchy! Hope you're enjoying the story...