‘Then why the fuck are you here?’ he snarled, releasing a cloud of stale coffee breath. ‘What do you want?’
Mallory winced; he really was hurting her. ‘I’m here on business, on behalf of a coven of local witches.’
Old Man Stone-arm immediately released her, threw back his head and cackled. ‘The Pitcairns, I presume?’
Mallory did her best to look shocked. ‘Oh no, definitely not them.’
He gazed at her; he was interested now, though but he was trying hard not to show it.
‘The witches I represent have a far grander lineage than the Pitcairns – more money, better connections and far greater magic.’
‘Who?’
‘I’m not at liberty to say.’
This time Old Man Stone-arm reached for her throat though he didn’t squeeze it. His touch was feather light but his intention was very clear. ‘I couldmakeyou tell me.’
Mallory tightened her toes. ‘You could try, but I did tell you that my clients are powerful.’
‘They’ve put a gagging spell on you?’ His eyes widened.
Mallory neither confirmed nor denied it. That was the thing about gagging spells: if one was placed on you, you couldn’t talk about it. She continued gazing at the ogre and waited for him to remove his hand from around her neck.
Thankfully, he did. ‘Very well,’ he sniffed. ‘What do this coven want?’
‘It’s quite simple. They want you to keep the restrictive covenant in place to prevent the Pitcairns from growing their own magical plants and herbs – and they’re prepared to pay you for doing so.’
Suddenly the old ogre laughed. ‘Ha! There’s no honour amongst witches! This coven of yours doesn’t want any competition, does it? They want all the power for themselves.’
‘I’m not a witch, and I can’t speak for their motives.’ Mostly because they don’t exist, she added silently to herself.
Old Man Stone-arm barely heard her. ‘Witches are all the same – grubby, money-grabbing bastards who only care about themselves. The Witches Council likes to pretend otherwise but I know the truth.’ He paused. ‘Is it theCouncilthat you represent?’ He licked his lips. ‘That would be quite the thing,’ he breathed.
Mallory stayed silent.
‘How much?’ he demanded. ‘How much are they willing to pay for me to maintain the Pitcairn covenant?’
‘They’ll give the money to your son since he is head of the Association, not to you.’
The ogre grinned maliciously. ‘There’s a reason why you’re here talking to me and not my little Dickie. Hepretendshe’s in charge but everyone knows I’m still holding the reins. The money will come to me in the end.’
No wonder Richard Stone-arm had reacted so strongly when Mallory had called him a dick; it was the same word his father used against him. She felt a sudden sympathy for the younger ogre – then she pursed her lips and shrugged. ‘That’s not for me to say. I’m simply doing as I’m told.’
‘You’re the errand girl,’ he sneered. ‘Very well. Tell me, little girl, how much will they pay?’
Vanessa Pitcairn had already offered him twenty grand so Mallory doubled it. ‘Forty thousand pounds,’ she said. ‘Forty thousand pounds to do absolutely nothing at all. It’s the easiest pay cheque you’ll ever get.’
Old Man Stone-arm’s eyes gleamed. ‘That’s a lot of money.’ He stroked his chin. ‘The Witches Council is definitely behind this. They don’t want any of the covens to succeed, especially the older ones like the Pitcairns.’ He met Mallory’s eyes. ‘No deal.’
She flinched slightly. ‘Fifty thousand.’
He leered at her. ‘No.’
‘How much then, Mr Stone-arm? What will it take?’
‘There is no amount of money in the world that will tempt me to deal with the Witches Council! You can scurry back and tell them that I’ll call the Pitcairn coven. As of this moment, the restrictive covenant on them is null and void.’
And with that, the old ogre laughed and laughed and laughed.
