The Whitby Witches 2: A Warlock In Whitby by Robin Jarvis

Author:Robin Jarvis
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2014-08-06T23:00:00+00:00

"Ruddy Nora!" he howled, blowing on his palm. "She bit me—the cow bit me!"

Jennet seized her chance and squirmed round to free herself, pushing the other boy away as forcefully as she could. He went tumbling backwards like a skittle, and then she turned her blazing anger on the ringleader.

Danny stopped his capering, dismayed to see his mates so easily overcome. He stared at the girl and his nerve wavered for a moment as he saw a peculiar glint shine in her eyes. Was it his imagination or was that insane gleam really a fiery red? Then Danny rallied, remembering that he was not alone, Mark and the other boy were still with him. He signalled for them to stop destroying the bonfire and they sidled up, large sticks in each of their hands.

"Come on then, Laurenson," taunted Danny, "come an' get me—I dares yer."

Jennet was breathing strangely, for a while her mind had become so flooded with hatred that she had forgotten all else—even Ben. Her one intention was to rush at that hideous boy with her claws ready to tear his face off. Now she recoiled from that awful emotion—bewildered and appalled. Her face turned pale at the memory of the all-consuming rage that had taken hold of her, and at the evil thoughts that had come unbidden to her mind.

"Nathaniel," she whispered forlornly, "where are you? Help me please."

Now that all traces of fight had left her Danny jumped forward and raised his hand. "Yer as mad as yer brother!" he guffawed. "Go back to the funny farm!" And his hand whipped down to deliver a resounding slap across the girl's face.

Jennet staggered under the blow and had to clench her teeth to stop the inevitable cry.

Danny snorted and shot an expert missile of green phlegm into her hair. "Right," he called to the others," let's clear off. Don't take the wood—it's too crappy to bother wi'."

"'Ere!" shouted Mark. "What about this?"

Danny giggled gleefully. "Yeah!" he snorted. "We'll have that!"

One by one, the gang leapt back over the fence and ran off up the grassy slope of the cliff. Held aloft, like a trophy of war, the boys carried the guy.

Ben lifted his head, his stomach felt cramped and bruised, but that was nothing when he discovered what they had stolen. He thought of all the hard work he and Mr Roper had put into making it, but no tears trickled down his face at its loss—for at the same time he remembered that there were other, more important concerns to worry about.

"Jen," he said croakily, "are you hurt?"

His sister was kneeling on the grass where she had fallen after that cruel smack. When she turned her face to him, Ben saw an ugly, livid mark burning across her cheek. She stared blankly up at him when he came over and, as he held her, he discovered that she was shaking.

"Don't worry, Jen," he tried to reassure her, "they've gone now."

The girl closed her eyes and shuddered, "It's not that," she mumbled, "but back then, something took hold of me—I lost control.

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