Read Online Illicit Magic by Camilla Chafer - Free Book Online

for them when she turned it on. So I scowled like a petulant teenager and she seemed amused as she turned back to the doors with a little shrug of her shoulders.
    When the lift doors glided back, Sidekick stepped out first and sped off with my bag before I could protest. I exhaled irritably as Étoile gestured that I was to follow her in the other direction. There was another marble foyer to cross, but this one was somewhat smaller than the building’s entrance hall, although just as grand, if not more so. A circular table stood on a pedestal in the centre with a large arrangement of fresh flowers in reds and pinks in a patterned vase. Their perfume drifted towards me in the still air. Heavy gold-striped drapes framed a single window that reached almost to the ceiling and I could see skyscrapers beyond. I couldn’t even guess what the table alone must have cost.
    I sidestepped to see the corridor that Sidekick had escaped via; it led off one way and I could see several doors before it turned a corner. It was all I could do not to stand and turn and stare like a tourist in a grand house opening. It was the most elegant lobby I had ever seen. It was bigger than the whole top floor of my flat, never mind my own studio. Two sets of double doors led off the lobby and Étoile knocked firmly at one set before opening a door and ushering me inside.
    I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t the scene in front of me.
    There were no black cats or cauldrons, or anything vaguely witchy. Instead, three large cream sofas were positioned around a long, low upholstered coffee table. Occasional tables, with vases of splendid roses in shades of pink and yellow, and pairs of slipper chairs were dotted about the room. It was a room made for coffee mornings, social committees and elegant soirees, not scruffy London orphans. I couldn’t feel more out of place.
    Against my better judgement, I sniffed, then thinking better of it, and remembering I did have manners, I tipped my chin up a bit and tried not to look like a fish out of water. I’d just have to bluster through, the same as I did when I got a temping assignment that was way beyond my expertise. Only this time I was in the company of witches and couldn’t just hide behind a stack of filing. The hell if I would I let my nerves show, though.
    A man and woman sat on the furthest sofa. The pair were both elegant and well dressed, though not flashy; she in a cream skirt suit, court shoes and a tidy golden bob; he in a charcoal grey three-piece suit with a striped shirt and tie. They looked like they were in their fifties, but a very well-preserved version of that age.
    Another man sat on the adjacent sofa, closer to me. Not only was he much younger but dressed considerably more casual in a white t-shirt with a button-down placket, jeans (albeit expensive ones) and leather boots. With his shaggy blonde hair and big blue eyes, he was straight from an advert for healthy living. Though he was younger, there were physical similarities to the older pair. The square jaw was like the older man’s and I wondered if perhaps he was their son. He had a playful smile on his face and looked mildly curious, but welcoming. He caught my eye and winked at me. I dipped my eyes and a pink blush crept onto my cheeks. Embarrassing, much!
    The older man rose to his feet and approached me, his hand outstretched to shake mine in a double-handed clasp and I caught the glimpse of a Rolex. I’d bet good money he hadn’t bought it from a street vendor. He had a slightly receding hairline with closely cropped, iron grey hair and a smooth accent as he said, “We’re so glad Ms. Winterstorm found you. We were so worried that she was too late.” It sounded like an admonishment dressed up in a welcome and I was a little cross for Étoile’s sake. She sank gracefully onto the sofa next to the young man and was playing on her phone again, her thumbs busily texting. If she noticed the slight, she didn’t give a