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My brother Liam had wanted to pick me up from the station himself, but we’d agreed it was a bad idea. At best, an actual Sadler family member taking the time out to collect me would look distinctly odd. At worst, we’d start hugging and screaming, and he’d forget to call me Kate Elner. Not a great start to my cover if there were Thornber spies around.
“You’ll be staying at The Windmill Hotel.” Connor opens the passenger seat of the car and helps me in like a fancy chauffeur.
Mum had wanted me safely tucked up in my old bedroom, but however much they attempted to sell it as a sensible way of protecting their prize lawyer, it’d be utterly unbelievable. As I know all too well, the family home is sacrosanct. Hence my room in The Windmill, the closest hotel.
“The Windmill’s nice enough,” Connor continues, starting to drive. “I’ll be staying there, too, in the room next door. It’ll be like being on holiday.”
“Why are you staying? Don’t you live nearby?”
I know the answer, but I ask the question to keep up appearances. I’m on the London circuit, but I’ve done a few provincial trials and stayed in the local hotels. I’ve never been assigned a bodyguard-cum-chauffeur by my clients, still less had them check into my hotel.
“I don’t want to worry you, but your client has some dangerous enemies. There’s always a chance they’d try to get to you.”
“Nothing worries me. Besides, he’s not officially my client yet. And it’s sweet that everyone’s so concerned, but I can take care of myself.”
He shrugs, and it’s obvious what he’s thinking:If only she knew the sorts of enemies she’s up against.
If only he knew just how well I can look after myself,I think by way of silent reply.
“Brendan’s family will explain when we get to the hotel. They’ll give you twenty minutes to get settled, then they want to meet you and plot.”
I frown, half keeping up the act, half nervous about seeing them all so soon. “This is all very unorthodox. I’ll have a conference. Tomorrow. With my potential client. And there’ll be no ‘plotting’. We’ll go over his statement and talk about possible defences.”
Connor crosses his arms in frustration. The car keeps steering perfectly. He’s driving it with his mind, as he’s presumably been doing all along.
“I was told you were prepared to show total loyalty and commitment. That’s why you were chosen. I thought all that was made clear before you accepted?”
“I’m a lawyer, Connor. Not a gun for hire. And once again, I’ve not accepted the job yet.” The irritation in my voice isn’t faked in the slightest. Damn my parents for putting me in this position.
“Let me make one thing clear then, Miss Elner. People round here don’t say no to the Sadlers.”
“I say no to whomever I please,” I reply. “And with you here to protect me, I have nothing to worry about.”
“I need to protect you from yourself as well as our enemies, with an attitude like that.”
I just about manage not to laugh.
* * *
The Windmill is situated in the old, quaint bit of town that my family’s powers have long protected from both modernisation and decay. I know the bar on the ground floor all too well from endless drunken teenage birthday parties featuring enthusiastic dancing and furtive kisses away from Bren’s ever-watchful eye.
It hasn’t changed a bit in the six years I’ve been away. But then again, it probably hasn’t changed all that much in the hundreds of years it’s been in existence. Few things do, in this town. Mannith was in the Domesday book, and though most of the buildings in town are from the early 1800s, the pub’s been there almost from the beginning. It’s got the flagstone floor, oak-beamed ceiling, and rustic wooden furniture you’d expect in the sort of place middle-aged couples would visit for a genteel pint after a long country walk with their dog. But it tends to be full of disreputable young people drinking heavily and even less reputable old people drinking even more.
Glancing around is like stepping back in time to my teenage years. The same smell of beer and smoke in the air, the same constant swell of laughter and cheerfully shouted remarks. Some of the clientele are practitioners, some humans in my family’s employ, others just ordinary, loyal townsfolk.
I vaguely recognise a few people from school and from family gatherings. I was never exactly Miss Popularity as a teenager—I was far too quiet and studious for that—but my family name and the efforts of my more sociable siblings meant I was always included in most social circles. And I did have a few closer, like-minded friends. But keeping in touch with them after I fled was too much of a risk, and by the time I’d been away for a few years, it seemed increasingly unlikely I’d have much in common with people who were still living the life of a practitioner. I’d love to catch up with some old acquaintances, but it’s more of a risk than ever.
Thanks to Chrissie’s prowess and my natural changes, even the magical ones show no sign of penetrating my disguise. Indeed, no one pays me much attention at all, until they realise I’m with Connor. That piques their interest.
“Who’s the new lass, Connor?” someone calls. “How’ve you found the time for a dirty weekend in the middle of all that’s going on?”
I can’t help but reflecting that it would be nice if that was actually what was happening here. Almost anything would be better than the reality of the situation. Besides, even if he’s not my usual type, Connor’s objectively good-looking and seems like a decent guy.
“He’s nothing but trouble, love,” one of the others says to me. “Come here. I’ll buy you a drink.”
I’m on the verge of saying something back. Perhaps a jokingly flirtatious line, perhaps a withering putdown. But that doesn’t seem a very Kate Elner thing to do, so I stay silent and mimic the nervous smile I’ve seen time after time on the face of outsiders who find themselves in our town.
For a second, Connor smiles, too, and the same desire to make a witty remark lights up his face. There’s a pleasant energy running through the room, a real sense of people who know, trust, and like each other, who are equally happy to sit in companionable silence with their pints or lovingly tease and mock each other all night.
