Page 44 of The Witches of Cambridge

“I’m fine,” she swore. “Trust me.”

It was only after they’d said goodbye that Lauren noticed there was still red ocher spotting her dress and jacket, as if she was being prepared for her funeral rites. She could spy white figures in the trees, as if the spirits of women who’d been sacrificed long ago were trying to tell her something. Every one of them was spattered with red ocher; they were women who’d been abused and ruined and left to call out from the trees. Lauren ran all the way to Lilith House, and she didn’t look behind her. She didn’t scare easily, but she was frightened now. Once at the house, she quickly found her way to the bathroom, where she stripped off her stained clothes. She had a panicky feeling. It was the way she’d felt on the day of her parents’ funeral. She stood in the shower for so long the water grew cold and she shivered, but still she stayed and let the water run. By the time she was done, she’d left scarlet splashes of water on the wall: red magic. Love, attraction, sex, passion, betrayal. The best and the most dangerous magic, which can bring you all that you want or destroy you completely. Even when she had toweled herself dry, red magic was everywhere.

Look in the mirror, see the truth about yourself, you can try to hide it all you want, you can sit in the trees, you can pretend you don’t care, but you have a heart. It’s been there all along.

Emily Bright had disappeared without a word to anyone. The members of the society set lanterns in the windows and stayed up until dawn; they searched the streets and Radcliffe Yard and didn’t find a trace, not a book, not a button, not a note. When Emily’s family came for her belongings they wept and blamed Lilith House. They called it a cursed place, and said no one should come to live there. They phoned the parents of the girls who had been chosen to be initiates in September and told them Lilith House wasn’t safe, and if they were smart they would have their daughters board at South House.

Those who remained set out a spell for protection. Elm, ivy, birch bark, tears, blood. They would not walk alone at night or leave their windows open or stay alone at the library after hours, following the detective’s orders. They would not look for darkness, and they vowed not to embrace left-handed magic. They’d plucked the black roses in the garden and ground the petals into a paste to add to their tea as a charm of protection.

Billy Healy had taken to parking his car across the street, just to keep an eye on the place. Rumors were swirling. Lauren noticed that he was often staring at her window, and one evening she decided to have it out with him. She recognized a lovestruck man when she saw one, moody and handsome behind the wheel of his unmarked car. She opened the passenger door and got in beside him.

“Are you in love with me?” she wanted to know.

“What?” Billy laughed out loud. “No!”

“Are you sure? Because you’re sitting out here staring at my window.”

“Absolutely sure. Never been surer of anything.”

Lauren flushed with embarrassment, rattled that her sixth sense had been wrong. She could have sworn he was a man in love. “Well, good,” she said.

She went about her business and forgot about him, but later in the week she looked over her shoulder while walking to the Square, and there he was, half a block behind her. She quickened her pace, and so did he. She hid behind a mailbox, and when he walked past, she jumped out.

“I knew you were following me.” Lauren tilted her face, shading her eyes with her hand so she could study his expression. “There must be a reason.”

“I just want to find out what happened to your friends,” Billy said. “You can trust me, Lauren.”

“Why should I?” she said flatly.

“Because I know what you are.” He’d seen her sharp teeth, and the way leaves fell from the trees when she walked by. His mother and sister practiced the Unnamed Art, and his sister’s teeth were quite sharp as well. He didn’t talk about it, it wasn’t his business, but he knew.

“What I am is a Radcliffe student,” Lauren informed him. This conversation wasn’t at all what she had expected. “Class of ’fifty-four.”

Billy laughed. “You’re a little more than that.”

“You have no idea who I am,” Lauren told him.

She was headed toward the café, and Billy continued to shadow her. Sitting before them was Lionel, the reason Billy had followed Lauren. The rescue dog Houdini was at Lionel’s feet, as always.

“This is my brother,” Lauren said, gesturing to Lionel. “The doctor.” She nodded at Billy. “This is the detective who’s been following me.”

“Not a doctor quite yet.” Lionel said, his eyes on Billy.

“This is a surprise,” Billy said.

“Is it? Or did you plan it? You were trailing my sister.”

Billy flushed and tried to catch the attention of a waitress. “I’m here for a coffee,” he said.

Lauren was caught off guard by their rapport. Surely these two inhabited very different worlds, yet they spoke as if they knew each other well. “Have you two met?”

“We have.” Lionel lifted his glass to Billy. “In gratitude.”

“I haven’t arrested him a few times,” Billy admitted. When Lauren still looked baffled, he added in a low tone, “At bars.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you arrest anyone.” Lionel was clearly delighted to see him; there was a grin on his face. “Are you sure you’re really a cop?”

Billy shrugged. “It’s a stupid law. People should be allowed to love who they love.”