Free Banished by Liz de Jager Page B

protected by the wards on the house, or do we leave, travel to London to try and find help there? What do
we do? I lean back in the chair and prop my ankles up on the desk, knowing Kyle would have a fit if he saw me putting my feet anywhere near his precious computers. I adopt a thinking pose –
fingertips steepled together – and close my eyes to think.
    There is someone in London who will be able to help; her name is Olga Kassan. She’s a friend of the family and I’ve met her a few times now. Marc calls her a witch, a
bruja
,
which is Spanish for witch, but when he says it, he definitely means more than just a witch. At each equinox she travels down to the Manor to help Jamie and Marc (and now me) refresh the warding
around the house. In return, they pay her a lot of money. The more I think about it, the more I think that getting to Olga’s is definitely our best option and because I can’t find any
info on her in Kyle’s database, and therefore no number, we’ll just have to head to London and track her down at the shop she runs for her grandfather. I have the address in my phone so
I’ll be able to set the satnav to navigate us there.
    I hear a noise in the passage and turn to find Thorn standing behind me. He’s found a pair of jeans that fit his long legs and he’s wearing one of Marc’s well-worn surf
T-shirts but it sits a bit tight at the shoulders.
    ‘Better?’
    He closes his eyes in an expression of bliss. ‘Much, thank you.’ He looks past me and I’m tempted to swing around and turn the screens off, but it’s too late. He’s
seen the photo of himself on there. ‘Research?’
    I nod, finding it interesting that he doesn’t cross the threshold into Kyle’s room to come closer and inspect the computer set-up. ‘Yep. Just trying to see if there’s
anything in our files that can help us.’
    ‘Any luck?’
    I swing back to the screen and jab a finger at the photo of him. ‘No, but this guy intrigues me. He looks like a bit of trouble.’
    I’m favoured with a full smile. My heart actually stutters and my insides all do on-the-spot breakdancing. No one should be allowed to be this dangerously cute!
    ‘Oh, he was. I reckon if you had met him last night, instead of me, you would have left him to be redcap dinner.’
    ‘Seriously?’ I look at him doubtfully, then back at the screen. ‘He’s very young, though.’
    ‘Youth is no excuse for arrogance and stupidity.’
    The way he says it makes me think that maybe those aren’t his words. They sound as if they’ve been drilled into him. Maybe by a tutor? Or his father?
    ‘Regardless, I would have saved his butt. No one that cute is allowed to suffer at the hands of redcaps.’
    This time I get an actual chuckle. ‘I’ll remember that. Now, what can we do about shoes?’ He points at his bare toes and wiggles them. And even they are attractive. ‘My
boots are great for riding but not really fit for everyday wear in the human world.’
    ‘Let’s see what we can find.’
    Because we are such a big extended family, we always have people leaving bits of clothing behind. So, unless it’s underwear (
ech
), we tend to dry clean it and hang it in one of the
spare bedrooms. This is where I lead Thorn and after a few minutes of rummaging he comes away with a pair of trainers and a pair of solid hiking boots. We also find him a few more T-shirts and a
pair of jeans. On our way downstairs, I grab a rucksack from Kyle’s room and stuff Thorn’s new clothes in there.
    ‘Now you at least own something that’s not covered in blood,’ I tell him as we head back downstairs to the kitchen. I’m embarrassed to admit this but I am hungry again. I
make some toast and smear it with peanut butter and, without asking, I make some for Thorn too. He accepts the plate without commenting and for a moment everything is quiet as we eat.
    ‘Coffee?’ I ask, heading for the filter machine, but he shakes his head.
    ‘No, thank you,’ he answers