Bloody Good. Georgia Evans

      Gran was waiting when she finally got home. “You’ll be needing a nice cup of cocoa. Have a seat, Alice, and I’ll warm up the milk.”

      Alice hung up her coat, kicked off her shoes, and gladly accepted a couple of Osbourne biscuits and a mug of cocoa, which came, she noticed at the first sip, with a generous tot of rum. “Trying to knock me out, Gran?”

      “No, love, but you looked so peaky when you came in, I decided you needed a little warm-up. Was it bad?”

      Good question. “No death is easy, is it? But this was…” How the heck could she describe it? Gran waited as Alice took another drink and let her mind sort out the possible adjectives to describe the odd atmosphere up at Morgan farm. “It was…odd.” Inadequate but…

      “How did he die?”

      “That was what was strange. We’re calling in the coroner. Mrs. Morgan was upset about it, but I couldn’t in all conscience sign the death certificate.” She bit on one of the Osbourne biscuits and chewed, then dunked the other half and let it melt in her mouth. “Something wasn’t right, Gran.” She explained all she’d seen up at the farm and Mrs. Morgan’s account of finding him. “It just seems wrong.”

      She half-expected another lecture about using her innate gifts but instead, Gran nodded. “Trust your instincts, Alice. They won’t let you down. After all, it’s not the first strange thing in the village this week.”

      “You mean the disappearing man?” Of course she did. “They could hardly be connected.” Could they?

      “Everything is connected, Alice. We can’t always see how. Just remember to trust your instincts, and things turn out.”

      Maybe, but if she followed her instincts about her new assistant, she’d hand him the white feather.

      Chapter 6

      “One of them has killed,” Bela told them when they returned in the early morning. They were not pleased. The anger came off them as cold waves despite their calm faces.

      “Which one?” Zuerst asked.

      “Eiche.”

      “You are certain of this?” Zweiten snapped.

      “I sensed it. You told me to stay alert to them whenever I was awake.”

      “But you are sure he killed?”

      She nodded at Zuerst. How many times did she have to speak to be believed? “He was feeding. At first it was an animal, a creature without a mind or thought, but then he was connected to a human. I felt his terror. I felt the life leave him.” She would not add she also felt the victim’s strength. Eiche must have absorbed some of it, but the rest flowed into her. After the shock and the pain of the death, she was stronger and that her captors would never know. If every time the vampires killed she strengthened, maybe one day she could cross the iron barriers that kept her imprisoned.

      “Your attention, fräulein!”

      She jumped at Zuerst’s command. “Apologies. I am tired.”

      “You did not sleep?”

      “It is hard to rest when they do not.” Not completely true, but she did know when they were moving. And now, killing.

      “Then rest while you can,” Zweiten said. “In a few weeks you will need all your talents.”

      In a few weeks she hoped to be gone from here. Although where she could go that the dreaded Nazis would not find her was still an unanswered question.

      But even a lone Fairy, once freed, was a force to be reckoned with.

      Chapter 7

      Peter Watson looked out of the window at the passing countryside and wondered what the heck he was doing riding a bus. If he had the sense he was born with he’d be spending his day off packing his few belongings or waiting for the pubs to open, but instead, after demanding the day off, he’d seen the bus waiting at the corner was going to Leatherhead via Brytewood. A roundabout route if ever there was one, and he’d taken it as sign from heaven and jumped on as it was moving off.

      Now he had a good twenty minutes to consider the impulse.

      He could see about a billet in Brytewood. He didn’t have the billeting officer’s name or phone number but how hard could it be to find out in a village?

      While he was there, he might as well ask about work hours and duties. Even if it did entail meeting the scornful eyes of the downright beautiful doctor. Dash it all! Might as well admit he fancied her—snubs, sneering, and all. He had to be bonkers. And why on earth had he practically begged her not to judge him? Did it matter what she thought about him?

      For some impossible-to-fathom reason, yes.

      He spent the rest of the ride trying to sort that one out.

      He got off the bus in the center of the village. Right across from the post office and general store and a few yards from the Pig and Whistle. Now that he was actually here, his impulse seemed stupid. Why meet trouble halfway? Monday would have been quite soon enough. But he was here and might as well look around.

      He hadn’t taken more than three steps from the bus stop when the grandmother, the woman from Devon, met his eyes with a broad smile. “You’ve come early. We were expecting you Monday.”

      “I had a day off due me and decided to have a look around.”

      “Wonderful!” She almost convinced him it was. “Do you have anywhere special to go then?”

      “Just thought I’d have a look around and perhaps see the billeting officer.” It struck him her eyes were just like the doctor’s: a deep, clear blue.

      “That’s taken care of. You’ll be staying with Sergeant Pendragon. His son’s off in the Army and he’ll be glad of the company.”

      That’s what she thought! Blimey, was he getting back into the same situation? “Are you sure?” He hated sounding diffident but the last thing he wanted was an unwilling host. “Is he aware I’m a CO?”

      “Of course. I told him.” She patted his hand, and he couldn’t miss how thin and delicate her skin was. She had to be older than she looked. “He understands you’re fighting the war in your own way.”

      He’d never had another person put it quite like that. “I hope I’ll be of use here. I’ve only the sketchiest idea of my assignment.”

      He wondered if the doctor laughed like her grandmother. “Oh, my love! Just you wait. You’ll be stretched thin and overworked before the week is out.” The prospect obviously delighted her. “You can’t imagine how much we need you. When Alice’s father ran the practice he had an assistant. Alice is now doing the work of two and has the evacuees in addition to the villagers and she’s seeing the workers up at the government installation on the heath. Gloria—that’s the district nurse—does more than her share and desperately needs another pair of hands.” She gave him another pat. On his sleeve this time. “Trust me, you’re going to be welcomed with open arms.”

      That he doubted. Open snarl from the good doctor was more likely. Pity that. He fancied she’d look smashing if she smiled.

      “…don’t you think?”

      He had been off in the outer reaches. “Beg your pardon, I was looking at the church. Interesting. Saxon is it?”

      “Yes, or was until the Victorians started their improvements.” She gave him an intent look. “Interested in ecclesiastical architecture?”

      Was that a note of amusement or a tinge of sarcasm? “No more than the next person. Just something about a church and a duck pond and a village green reminds me of home.”

      “Life’s