Witch Fire by Laura Powell Read Free Book Online Page A

of the shiny new developments. It was located in a Victorian warehouse on the edge of a run-down industrial estate. Unlike the other security service HQs, its location was kept anonymous. The sign over the main entrance was for Avalon Atlantic Plc: International Shipping . Since Glory and Lucas were too young to be plausibly employed by a shipping company, they entered the building through the so-called ‘back door’, an underground passageway that was accessed via a computer repair shop around the corner. This was as fake as the reception for Avalon Atlantic, and was also staffed by a WICA guard.
    Glory sketched a greeting to the guard and made her way to the back of the shop, where there were stairs down to the subway. Lucas arrived just as she was typing in the access code. He didn’t look as if he’d slept any better than she had. There were shadows under his eyes, and when he saw her, he seemed to hang back a little. But Glory made a point of waiting for him. As they walked along the narrow concrete passageway, she found herself confiding to him about Peggy.
    ‘She’s nice enough,’ she said. ‘It’s just that she’s a bit nosy for my liking. Bossy too, I bet. Those do-gooder types always are.’
    ‘I thought you wanted your dad to meet new people. To get out more.’
    ‘Yeah, but I reckon old Peg’s after more than tea and sympathy. And Dad’s so clueless he’ll be the last to catch on.’
    ‘Would it be so bad if Patrick met someone?’ Lucas said cautiously. ‘I mean, I wasn’t too thrilled when Dad first got together with Marisa. But after I got used to the idea, I realised that it was probably a good thing.’
    ‘I ain’t stupid. Or selfish neither,’ Glory retorted. ‘ ’Course I don’t want Dad to be lonely – ’specially as I’m not going to stick around home for ever. But now I know my mum might be alive, that makes stuff complicated, don’t it? Dad’s still married , remember.’
    Lucas was silent for a while. ‘ The thing is . . . even if your mum . . . Well, if she wanted to get in touch, wouldn’t she have done so by now?’
    This was something Glory often wondered about, but didn’t like to acknowledge. Her face tightened. ‘ That’s the point: I don’t know . I don’t know nothing . If she were just another unhappy housewife who ran off then OK, fair enough. Maybe it’d be time to cut our losses. But there’s more to it than that. I’m sure of it. Else she wouldn’t be in them Inquisition files.’
    Lucas looked uncomfortable. ‘Anything’s possible,’ he said. ‘But spend too much time wondering “what if?”, and life has a way of moving on without you. Maybe your father’s tired of putting his on hold.’
    Glory knew that what Lucas said was perfectly reasonable, but she still resented him for it. It was probably just as well they were going their separate ways for the first lesson of the day. They each had to learn two modern languages and in this, as in so many things, Lucas’s schooling put him ahead.
    But Glory and her Spanish tutor had only just settled down to the latest vocab list when Jack Rawdon’s PA knocked on the door. Glory was requested to attend a meeting in the Dee Room.
    Uh-oh. Had they found out about her coffee with Troy? Or maybe this was about her strop with the fae-healer . . . She set off to the meeting with her best Rockwood Estate strut: head high, hips swinging, don’t-mess-with-me scowl.
    To her surprise, Lucas was there too. Maybe she wasn’t in trouble after all. Jack Rawdon was leaning casually against the table, his shirt sleeves rolled up, unkempt hair falling over his eyes. There was another man sitting next to him. He was stringy and balding, in an ill-fitting suit. On the conferencing screen on the wall there was a woman in the scarlet and grey ceremonial uniform of a High Inquisitor.
    ‘Glory,’ Rawdon said. ‘Good to see you. Let me introduce you to Commander Dorcas Hughes of the Witchcrime Directorate.’
    Glory