Shadowchasers: Something Borrowed

By Mei1105

Chapter 2: Engagement

Three...two...one…

Becky's mental countdown ended as the small child, running through the baggage reclaim like someone had stuck a rocket up the leg of his trousers, shot straight out in front of a businessman and collided with his legs. He fell to the floor, and immediately started wailing at the injustice of it all. The startled man spilt hot coffee down his shirt and began to swear at the top of his lungs, first at the child, and then at the stressed mother.

Travelling really did bring out the worst in people.

The familiar purple case trundled past her on the lazy carousel, and she seized it before it could wander off. Another yawn crept up her throat, and her jaw cracked loudly in response. She had napped on both legs of her sixteen hour journey today, but the bottom line was that she had had too many late nights this week, and been on far too many planes in the last four days. Her body clock was shot.

Food first. She reminded herself, having bypassed all the in flight meals on both flights today. Then shower. Then sleep.

But first, she needed something way more important.

Heading through the small duty free area, designed to tempt you one last time before you escaped the airport's clutches forever, she found the automatic doors leading to arrivals. She was blasted with cool air conditioning as soon as she went through, and she almost crooned in relief. Beyond the barrier, families and taxi drivers waited patiently for their passengers. One of them was weaving his way through the crowd towards her, and she felt a surge of relief that she recognised him, even though she had only seen him twice on Skype calls.

"Bastien!"

The six foot Shadowchaser broke through the last line of arrivals, and gave her a bracing hug, which effectively knocked the rest of her sluggishness away.

"Look who they let out of America!" he teased. "You made it in one piece then?"

"Just about," she admitted pulling a face. "Though in Dubai, I did sit down where there wasn't a chair…"

She let him have a laugh at her expense. It probably had been funny to everyone else around her. "Well as long as you hang on for the journey to Bantry. What you do after that is completely up to you."

"Thanks for looking after my bike," allowing him to do the gentlemanly thing and take her suitcase, Becky fell into step next to him as they weaved their way around hovering taxi drivers towards the exit. "And for coming to get me. I know you guys are probably busy."

She got a dismissive wave of his hand in response. "I spent most of today driving up and down the N2, arresting orcs. This is a much needed breather." He assured her, gently stopping her as a pair of small children ran out right in front of them. After so many hours of dodging her way through terminals and down aeroplanes, it was nice to have some human contact that did not involve elbows and stepping on people's toes.

"Wow. What did you get them for?"

"Lots of things," her colleague replied wryly. "They were running duellists off the road, then beating them up and stealing their belongings." He gave her a look. "I think I got them all, but take care if you're going near the flats."

Becky weighed this in her head - as a black person she was probably far safer than Bastien in the Cape Flats, but as a woman, she was probably more at risk in other ways. She settled for nodding in agreement, as they breached the airport exit, where the air conditioning heartlessly abandoned them. The warmth sent her eyelids drooping again as Bastien lead her across the road, to the car park.

"So how was London?" Bastien asked. A grin crept its way onto Becky's face.

"Exhausting," she declared immediately. "Slept off jet lag. Went to check on my parent's house. Went to the bank. Went to the doctor. Went to the tax office. Caught up with my two best friends. Had big Shadowchaser graduation ceremony. Went out and got a liiiiittle drunk with my two best friends…"

"You didn't get drunk at the ceremony, did you?" Bastien asked, part worried and part amused. Becky laughed.

"God no! We saved that for afterwards."

There were some things Jalal never needed to see the men and women under his command doing, and Becky knew that Judy pulling a celebrity in a London nightclub was one of them. Still, she had been better than Emily - Becky had vague memories of the Librarian's apprentice weaving down the street next to her, singing some random song about leather pants, in a voice that could charitably be described as out of tune, but more realistically resembled a werewolf undergoing an exorcism.

"You sure you don't mind riding double?" Bastien asked, as they approached his D-Wheel. "It's only half an hour to Bantry."

"I've been trapped in planes for the last sixteen hours," Becky stopped checking out his bike to offer a smile. "I will do a handstand if it gets me closer to home."

He laughed. "Now there's an image. You missing your baby?"

Becky unsuccessfully smothered a yawn. "Hell yes. Last two weeks I developed a twitch in my hands whenever I was out. Fayte had to tell me twice to stop trying to rev my unicorn's mane to make her go faster."

"It'll be worth it," Bastien assured her, storing her case in the back. "There's some gorgeous stretches of coast round the mountain. Bike is the best way to see them. You should take your baby out once you get over the lag."

"You still okay to ship it back to London after I'm done?" Becky asked, wiggling her leather jacket back on. Usually her favourite piece of clothing, it was wholly unwelcome in the warm air.

"Not a problem," her colleague tossed her a familiar helmet. "Adds some variety to our day."

Becky grinned as she clipped the strap into place. "You've got all of South Africa to police - I should think there's enough variety to go around. Speaking of which, are there any areas I should try and avoid, aside from the flats?"

It never hurt to know everything about the feel of a city, even if you had visited it yourself before. Now that she was a Shadowchaser, Becky knew she would be seeing the familiar city with brand new eyes.

"The usual make up for this kind of city," Bastien said, slipping his own helmet on and straddling the bike. Becky gratefully slid on after him, leaning casually against his back. "A little bit of everything. We've got a larger than average dwarf population - mostly ex diamond miners from Kimberly or Koffiefontein. There's a decent sized community of elves in Newlands Forest too, but none of them will cause you any trouble. Take care if you go near Table Mountain though. Xicerine doesn't like it when people bother him."

"Who's Xicerine?" Becky asked, as the engine purred to life beneath them. She felt a jolt of excitement at the prospect of being on a bike again.

"Our roc."

"Scuse me?" she blinked in surprise. Bastien laughed, spotting her face in the mirror.

"Yeah. Feathery and really antisocial. That's why we don't have any dragons nearby, and why Jalal doesn't visit ever. Not worth pissing Xicerine off. And he hates it when tourists get too close to his roost, so we try to keep that spot of the mountain hidden for him."

"I see," Becky nodded, wondering how on earth you hid a bird with an eighty foot wingspan. Even though they were a good distance away from the city centre, she could not help but scan the sky hopefully as they circled out of the airport and onto the approach.

"It's very unlikely that you'll see him just flying overhead," Bastien called her out on it, as they paused at the junction. She pouted, and adjusted her grip around his waist better.

"I can dream," she said loudly in his ear. He chuckled, pulling out onto the approach, where, to Becky's joy, she could see the shadow of mountains in the distance framed against the blue sky.

Her exploration of her surroundings was interrupted by a familiar sound, and the vehicle's screen filled with a new face, hidden partially by their own helmet.

"Hey Than," Bastien greeted, as he overtook a taxi.

"Your voicemail is full," his colleague said by way of greeting, and Becky grinned to herself at the familiar accent. She had spoken to Thando a few times while planning her trip to Cape Town - in addition to both being Xhosa, their families shared clan ties, having both come from Port Elizabeth. "Learn to empty it like a normal person."

"Noted," Bastien said, with a tone that indicated this was not the first time he had been asked this. He frowned at his screen. "Why are you down in the Crossroads?"

Leaning over her driver's shoulder, Becky got a good view of the scenery as it streaked past Thando's D-Wheel. He seemed to be driving through a shanty town.

"Sky called and said something was kicking off outside the school," Thando reported. "I'll give you the details when I know them." He blinked and smiled. "Is that a British Shadowchaser growing out of your shoulder? You should get that looked at my friend, before it spreads."

Becky snorted. "Be nice to me, Thando. I have your duty free whiskey hostage in my bag!"

The man on the other end of the screen gave a needy sounding groan.

"If you're down in the Crossroads Thando I assume you need me to do something for you?" Bastien asked, shrewdly.

"Yes," his colleague stopped pulling the puppy eyes, and instead became all business again. "I need you to pop down to the Stone Cutters. Dvagar says they've had a break in. Nothing stolen, and nobody is hurt, but they've left a real mess that they think we should take a look at."

In the wing mirror, Becky could see Bastien frowning. "Someone broke into the Stone Cutters and didn't steal any of their bling?"

"I guess not," Thando admitted. "Of course it's possible Dvagar just might not have wanted to say anything over the phone. Either way…"

"I'll get down there once I've dropped Becky off," Bastien promised, glancing at her in the mirror. "Sorry - this will have to be a flying introduction."

"That's fine," Becky assured him wholeheartedly. "I'll make a better impression when I'm not jet lagged anyway." Her stomach was pointedly reminding her that she hadn't eaten in a while, and there was a barbecue at the end of the day's travelling.

Thando pulled into the school, and said a hasty goodbye before hanging up. The D-Wheel screen returned to it's previous GPS readout.

"What - or who - are the Stone Cutters?" Becky asked, sliding back down into her more comfortable position, now that she did not have to peer at the screen.

"Officially they're a social club, set up for retired diamond miners," Bastien explained. "Unofficially they're a group of old dwarves from Kimberly who like to sit around, relax with a mug of beer, and try to keep their hand in the trade - usually by 'liberating' places like Zimbabwe or Angola of their conflict diamonds." He rolled his eyes and Becky could practically hear the quotation marks around his words.

"Sounds pretty badass."

"Oh they are," came the wry smile. "Which makes me a little worried when they say they've had a break in. There's probably plenty of glitter in that building that could have been filched, so I'm sceptical that nothing has gone missing."

He overtook a slow moving heavy goods vehicle. The motorway had turned into suburbs now, the low sprawling buildings in bright colours a direct contrast to the brief flashes of the Crossroads that had been on the screen not a moment ago. Two lanes over from them, a pair of D-Wheels roared as they shot off in the opposite direction, the familiar landscape of Speed World surrounding them, as duel monsters danced overhead. A yawn temporarily forced Becky's eyes shut, and when she opened them again, the two bikes had already disappeared further down the road.

"Still with me back there?" Bastien asked.

"Think so," she admitted, as a hologram burst into existence the distance, revealing the unmistakable silhouette of Mecha Phantom Beast Dracossack materialised over the field. "Ooo that's going to sting!"

Her driver grinned at her. "And spook any passing aeroplanes. Any of your family picked it up?"

Becky giggled. "Yes, much to my mother's exasperation. Me, my sister, my cousin, my aunt's fiancé, and my grandmother all duel. The cousin and the fiancé both have D-Wheels - Nana is still saving up for one."

"Right...how old is your grandmother, again?" Bastien asked, sounding a touch worried that he might soon find a mad octogenarian terrorising the duel track. Another fit of giggles overcame Becky, and she chastised herself for acting so childishly.

"She's sixty five, and don't worry - we'll keep an eye on her if we take her turbo duelling. My aunt will kill us if we have an accident a few days before her wedding."

Bastien laughed. "This is true. So is your aunt going full Xhosa for the wedding, or are we shunning tradition in favour of the west?

Becky snorted. "Not shunning - in spite of what her fiancé's relatives think. They're having both. Western wedding and actual signing of papers on Saturday, Xhosa ceremony on Sunday. Marina did the full traditional in her last marriage, and she doesn't want to do it the same again. And they both live in Cape Town, so there's less of a village to involve."

"Aww, so no animal slaughtering?" Bastien asked. Becky jabbed him in the shoulder, but it lacked real force – she knew he was only teasing.

"I will say nothing on the grounds that you will mock me later," she said, sticking her tongue out as her colleague laughed. "Shut up! There's a spear ceremony, and a cow for the welcome, and singing. That's about as traditional as we're getting!"

"Ooh sing for me?" her driver shot her a winning smile in the mirror, and Becky felt her cheeks burn again.

"Not a bloody chance!" she could sing - actually she could sing rather well after five years of lessons - but she was not doing it now.

"Go on! I won't laugh!"

"I don't care! I'm not singing! I've been in air conditioned boxes all day - I sound like I've been gargling marbles!"

The playful argument continued as they left the suburbs behind and the road began to dip down into the city centre, the ocean appeared in the distance. Becky was hit by flashes of memory from her last few visits, as houses and other buildings began to spread out before them in a colourful mosaic. Still shadowing them on the left, was the end of Table Mountain. Even this close it was still half obscured by clouds. Becky pursed her lips and pretended to blow the cloud away, knowing that it would have been silly. From this angle there was no way you could see the top.

"Is that the first mountain you've seen in the last year?" her driver teased.

"Actually yeah - Nebraska's like a pancake," Becky nodded, tearing her gaze away from the mountain as they continued along the main road and it began to creep away behind them.

"So are the rumours I've heard about Backwater true?" Bastien asked, as they slowed down to accommodate the thicker traffic. Becky chuckled.

"Couldn't possibly tell you," she said innocently.

"Oh come on! I've seen the notes! Somewhere with that kind of concentration of Shadowkind has to have some stories to share. Is it true it's on top of an ancient Indian burial ground, and that's why it's so magical?"

The thought made Becky shudder. "Please don't talk about burial grounds. You do not want to know what I ended up doing the night before I left!"

"...well now I do!"

Wincing at the memory, Becky detailed her last night on duty, as they weaved into the central business district. The city was part concrete business jungle, and part stone houses washed in gentle colours, with wooden shutters, and wrought iron fences to keep back the street. The artist in Becky, which had lain dormant for most of the last year, suddenly awoke with a shriek of glee at the sight of so many adorable buildings and bits of scenery to photograph. Even though it was mostly hidden behind the closely packed buildings, she found herself remaining acutely aware of the presence of the mountain, looming like a watchful parent over those that lived in its shadow.

With the sudden surge in rush hour traffic however, Bastien stopped asking for stories about Backwater, and instead became excessively vocal in multiple languages as the cars pushed and jostled for space.

"Learn to drive, dumbass!" her fellow Shadowchaser shouted, as a car darted out ahead of him trying to catch the light, which had long since turned red. Upon hearing her laugh, he gave her a guilty look in the mirror. "Sorry."

Scoffing, Becky rolled her eyes. "I've been in America for the last year. Believe me, I've heard it all." She grinned, remembering the times she had hit the Nebraskan highways with Rave, who had a mouth like a drunk, sexually frustrated sailor.

Bastien gave her a smile, but it looked slightly forced. "Fair enough. I just can't stand people like that. The roads are no place for idiots."

He was silent until the light turned green again, and the traffic began to embrace them once more. Becky tactfully remained quiet, choosing instead to lean her head against his shoulder and scan the sky once more. The smell of lemongrass and leather rose up to meet her and she grinned, feeling all her muscles untense. She needed this trip…

The waterfront vanished behind them, as they rounded the top of the mountain, and continued through the terraced streets. Almost instantly Becky could see the architecture changing, giving way to fancy modern houses, in clean white plaster, glossy wood and blue glass. Bantry Bay had some of the most expensive real estate in Cape Town, and she could feel the atmosphere changing from the busy rush of the city, to the quiet, calm, fanciness of an area where people did things at their own pace, and in their own way.

The Shadowchaser's home in Cape Town was located on the highest road, with the sloped rise of the mountain on one side, and row after row of houses terraced down the other, eventually stopping when they met the beach. The sun was low in the sky, and Becky knew that watching it set from the beach must be spectacular. No wonder everything on this side of town was so expensive.

Bastien pulled into one of the larger houses, with two garage doors set into the very front. One of them rolled upwards obediently and he pulled in. Becky could not resist a squeak of happiness as she saw her own bike parked neatly on the side. Her hand started to twitch again. In a few moments, she would be back on the road under her own steam.

"End of the line," her driver announced, killing the engine. "I'd offer you coffee, but I've got a burglary to investigate."

"Another day when I'm more presentable perhaps," Becky suggested, sliding off the back of the vehicle and unstrapping her case. "Or if anything interesting comes up. I know I'm on vacation but if you're up to something fun and need an extra pair of hands, I'm available."

Bastien crooked a grin from under his helmet. "Never off duty with this job, are we?"

"That's what makes it fun," Becky stated, unzipping her bag and pulling out the bottles of whiskey. "Speaking of duty, tell Thando he can pay me back whenever he has a second." She gave him a teasing smile. "And don't worry - I won't tell Jalal that you're holding cocktail parties in his property."

"Ah, I knew we could count on you to be discreet, Becks," Bastien chuckled. "Please feel free to join our next wild night - with three people attending we might be daring and break out the jenga."

Snorting as she deposited the bottles on the workbench, Becky turned around with a snap of her fingers. "Keys?"

She side stepped to grab the flying metal. "Ta. Thanks again for the lift."

She was pleasantly surprised as Bastien leaned forward out of his seat and gave her a quick hug. "Anytime. Enjoy the barbecue."

"Will do," she settled into the seat of her own bike feeling just a touch giddy to be back in the seat. "You enjoy the dwarves."

"Oh I will - I love a good break in!" came the reply, as the bike roared into life once again. Chuckling, Becky kicked her own engine into gear and sped out of the garage and up the road, mentally plotting her route, and praying that jet lag did not decide to catch up with her on the motorway.

OOO

Situated in the pretty beach suburb of Muizenberg, the Stone Cutters looked from the outside like a tiny gentleman's social club (literally, for the front entrance consisted of a door which was barely five foot high). Nestled in the shadow of the mountains, it was about as close as the dwarves could get to being near the earth, without intruding too close to the forest (never a good idea, as dwarves and elves were famous for not getting on).

Crouching to get over the threshold, Bastien entered to find a scene of total chaos. The usually ordered chairs, tables and comfortable sofas had been overturned, with papers scattered everywhere like a snow flurry. Posters had been torn to confetti, and framed photographs had been pulled off the wall and smashed, leaving a trail of glass in the debris. The Shadowchaser felt something crunch under his shoe, and he winced as he found a little green plastic house, now broken in two beneath his tread. His eyes found the monopoly board to which it belonged discarded over the back of a chair, with what looked like claw marks dug into it.

Loud voices were arguing from the kitchen, and Bastien carefully picked his way through the damage toward it. It had not fared any better than the main room - cupboards had been torn open, and boxes raided. Even the bottles had not escaped. Something was cooking on the stove, and Bastien wrinkled his nose, deciding that he did not want to know what was for dinner. A radio had escaped the carnage, and was rapping away from one of the countertops. The table in the middle of the kitchen had been turned back the right way up, and five short figures now clustered around it, their argument getting progressively louder and involving wilder gesturing.

"...if you guys are looking at naked photos of Mai Valentine again, I'm out of here." Bastien announced his presence with a wry smile. All five of them rounded like a herd of startled antelope.

"Bastien!" Sliding his chair back noisily, Dvagar dropped to the ground, his braided beard only just clearing the top of the table, and hurried over to welcome their visitor. "Come in. Sorry about the mess."

He pushed a pile of pots aside with his foot so that Bastien could step into the room properly. Another dwarf thumped the radio, and the terrible rap music vanished obediently.

"Yeah, someone was having a party in here," Bastien commented, casting an eye over the mess before landing on the dwarves. "Nobody's hurt, are they?"

"None of us were here," Dvagar gestured pointedly at his comrades. "We've been up in Bellville all day watching the cricket. Only got back an hour ago and that's when we found this mess."

He nudged a shredded box of rice with the toe of his boot, jumping backwards as more grains came pouring out all over the floor. One of the other dwarves sighed, and began to examine the beer bottles to see if any more of them could be salvaged.

"Any idea how they got in?" Bastien asked, making his way slowly around the counters, peering closely at all the damage for any clues that might be had.

"That's the queer thing," Dvagar admitted, accepting one of the beer bottles and snapping it open. "All our doors and windows were locked tight before we left, and stayed that way. I checked them myself when we got back."

"I thought it might have been kids." A ginger dwarf, who's name Bastien vaguely remembered to be Pix, was leaning his chair back on two legs, his arms folded thoughtfully. "From the school." He added, seeing the curious look from the Shadowchaser. "Sometimes they come down here - like to take the piss out of the little old men."

Dvagar shook his head. "Those little shits would never have got in here without forcing one of the doors. My money's on magic."

"Mine too," Bastien agreed, pulling out a box of crackers from the cupboard, and allowing the crushed and chewed contents to pour sadly out of the hole in the bottom. "This reminds me of a mouse or animal, rather than a vandal. Plus you've got a kingdom's worth of diamonds hidden in here, and whatever broke in decided to tear up your posters and food instead."

Dvagar dissolved into a sudden coughing fit. "I never said we had diamonds in here. Nothing of the sort."

"Hmm…" Bastien grunted. He really did not mind - at least in the hands of the Stone Cutters, no government could make money off the precious stones. They were just keeping their hand in the game. You never really retired from gems when you were a dwarf.

"You haven't pissed anyone off that you know of, have you?" he asked shrewdly.

"Not to my knowledge," getting over his sudden throat tickle with a few swigs of beer, Dvagar pointed his bottle out of the window in the direction of the trees beyond. "I mean, the elves don't like us in general, but I'm not stupid. Something like this is too petty for them."

"Hmm…" Bastien did not add that with several of their own kind missing over the last few weeks, they had far more important things on their mind than juvenile pranks. "Anything strange been going on in the area? Lights in the sky? Spells being cast over someone's house?"

Like magic, Dvagar and three of the other dwarves rounded on the fifth. He looked uncomfortably at his phone, as though now questioning whether he was being a bit daft.

"Mikar here reckons he's seeing a sea witch," Dvagar jerked his head toward his friend, but there was an undertone of amusement to his voice, which said exactly what he thought of his friend's claims. Sure enough, Mikar shot him a filthy look.

"You can all stick your scepticism up your arses," he said, unlocking the screen and flipping through the pictures. "Here."

He shoved the phone into Bastien's hands and threw himself back into his chair with his arms folded, the very picture of sulking. Dvagar smothered a chuckle in his beer, as Bastien examined the image. A tingle went down his spine at the sight of it.

Mikar had forgotten to turn on Night Mode before taking the photo, and as such, the road, the beach and ocean beyond blurred into a single mess of shadow. A streetlight by the walkway provided some useful illumination, showing the figure against the railing, about human height and completely shrouded in what looked like the most ragged cloak imaginable.

"What on earth is that?" Bastien tapped the image twice to enlarge it, but it merely became more grainy and indecipherable.

"Seaweed," Mikar said instantly. As Bastien's head jerked up sharply, the dwarf shrugged. "Could smell it down the other end of the street. Her whole body was covered in it."

Bastien frowned. "How did you know it was a woman?"

For the first time since the Shadowchaser's arrival, Mikar's mouth twitched into a smile. "You've never seen a female dwarf, have you lad? Trust me – beards don't hide it from me any more and neither does loose clothing. I can always tell."

"I think Mikar's in love," Pix's stage whisper earned him a kick in the knee that overbalanced his chair and sent him sprawling onto his back. He got up, cursing.

"Where was this?" Bastien asked, already pressing a button to forward the image onto his own phone.

"Down on Main Road," Mikar shrugged. "Just outside the Beach Bar. I went outside for a smoke and saw her just as I was coming out the door."

"Did she seem...hostile?" A nasty thought was worming its way into Bastien's mind, and he did not like it.

"No but…" Mikar glanced uncomfortably off towards the wall before answering. "Sounds stupid, but...just had a feeling that we were the ones she was watching."

"Were there any other Shadowkind in the bar at the time?" Bastien asked. Mikar shrugged, looking hopefully at his comrade for help.

"Pretty sure we were the only ones there," Dvagar confirmed. "Not many Shadowkind in this part of town - that's kinda why we set up here in the first place. Wanted a bit of peace and quiet."

He cast a dry eye around at the mess.

"Soon as I snapped that, she jumped over the railing, down onto the beach," Mikar continued. "I went and had a look just in case she had hurt herself." He shrugged. "No one there but the waves."

"I still say you were drunk," another of the dwarves put in.

"And I still say you can bite me!" Mikar finally succumbed to embarrassment, and took his phone back from Bastien with ruddy cheeks. Guessing that he would not get anything else out of him, the Shadowchaser turned back to Dvagar.

"Mind if I have a poke around the building?" he asked.

"Be my guest," the dwarf shrugged. "We'd better start tidying this mess if we want to get home tonight."

While the Stone Cutters reluctantly began to haul themselves up to search out brooms and bin bags, Bastien let himself into the other rooms of the tiny building. A more detailed sweep of the main room found no traces of magic. The upstairs bedrooms had been converted into a small library (a quick peek behind the shelves found a line of wall safes, all of which were happily locked and undisturbed), and a makeshift study, which also served as storage space for memorabilia. But aside from torn carpets, smashed pictures, and books with pages ripped out, nothing else was out of place.

Feeling a little disheartened, he trudged back downstairs to find Mikar carefully stacking the damaged photos in the main room. Behind him, Dvagar and Pix were throwing the shredded cushions into a bin bag, sending feathers flying everywhere.

"I've set up a few additional protection spells over the building." Bastien announced. "They won't keep out anything serious, but if this was a serious breach, I think you'd be missing more than your food."

Dvagar's beard twitched into a smile. "You're gold, Bastien. Knew I could rely on you." He sneezed loudly and thrust the offending cushion into the black bag, before rummaging in his vest pocket, and pulling out a slightly squashed box of Marlboros. "You should come join us one evening, once we've cleaned the place up. Have a few drinks. I've seen you play cards on that bike of yours - we should see if you're any good at Trivial Pursuit."

"I'll keep it in mind," Bastien agreed, knowing that it was probably one of the last ways he would chose to spend his night off. Not that the dwarves weren't nice, but he did not loan himself well to idleness. He had tried it a few times in the last few years, and none of those times had it ever worked out well. Three times he had got too drunk for words, and one night he had picked up a random girl off the street, and made the mistake of bringing her back home. It had been very hard to explain to her the next morning why she had to leave right now because his boss wanted a conference call (only compounded by the problem that he hadn't been able to remember her name in the harsh light of morning).

And in the end, none of those had properly distracted him. If anything, they had just thrown his situation into sharper relief. So now he worked. It was the only time where he felt like himself these days, except for the few rare moments he and Thando could enjoy a few hours of down time in front of the TV.

"Is that all of the rooms in this place?" he asked, trying to swallow the disappointment.

"All except the outhouse," Mikar answered, as Dvagar took a deep soothing drag from his cigarette. Seeing Bastien's sharp look, he jerked his head towards the back of the house. "Hey even dwarves have to piss, y'know - the upstairs toilet clogs sometimes."

Making a mental note never to use said bathroom, Bastien glanced around the room. "How do I get out there?"

Dropping a stack of damaged frames, Mikar turned and headed for the door. "Follow me."

He lead him back through the kitchen (where the smell coming from the cooker had taken on a new level of unpleasantness) to a small box hanging on the wall. Retrieving an old key from the hook inside, Mikar then turned and headed for the back door by the fridge, wincing as he stepped on a bag of crisps with a loud crunch.

"Good thing we picked up the stew ingredients on our way back," he muttered, jerking his head towards the bubbling pot on the stove, before shouldering the back door open. The smell of the questionable food vanished instantly, causing Mikar's expression to drop into a frown. "Hey, can you smell the beach?"

Bastien's heart was already sinking. His eyes followed the concrete path the ran off to their left along the side of the house, coming to rest underneath the kitchen window. The puddle of water glistened in the twilight.

"Hate it when I'm right," he muttered, pulling a glass vial out of his pocket and approaching with care. He could not explain why the sight of the puddle caused the hair on his neck to stand on end, but it did, and it was not a pleasant feeling.

Mikar was frowning at the sky. "Wasn't scheduled to rain today...oh hell! I left my laundry on the line!"

"I think your laundry is safe," Bastien admitted, crouching down to snap a photograph of the puddle. Pieces of a long and detailed puzzle were starting to snap together. "And I think your sea witch doesn't like having her photo taken."

Mikar's ruddy face went pale under his beard. "...I need a fucking drink."

OOO

The Naidu's had not even lived a generation in Cape Town. Becky's grandmother Lihle Naidu had been born, raised, married, given birth and raised her three children in Ibhayi, just outside of Port Elizabeth. She had patted Jeremia on the back bracingly, as he had headed off to begin his police training in Pretoria. She had taken a pregnant Marina back in, when her good for nothing arse of a husband had left her to be with a prettier woman in Durban. She had proudly hugged Elize, and kissed Andi and Becky goodbye as they had headed for the plane that would take them to their new lives in the UK. And she had gently held her husband's hand as he had passed away, in the comfort of their tiny home.

All three of her children had returned for the funeral, during which they had quietly discussed their mother's future. Becky had been twelve, and remembered how exhausted and drawn her mother had looked on returning.

"I just don't know," she had shaken her head quietly to her husband, when she had thought that both girls were in bed. "She says she will be fine, but now that she's on her own…"

Whether her mother was psychic or just highly deductive, Becky still had yet to guess, for she had been completely right. Three months after the funeral, a young man had forced the old lock on the back door, and crept in. Only a lucky bathroom visit had saved Lihle from being hurt, and a solid cricket bat to the face had saved her house from being pilfered. Knowing that the police had little fucks to give for a woman approaching her sixties, she had packed her belongings up that very night, and after a nine and a half hour drive in a clapped out old Nissan pickup truck, had arrived on Marina's doorstep in Cape Town, sheepishly asking if she might borrow the sofa for the night.

That night had turned into two months, and after many back and forths between the siblings, a solution had been reached. Lihle had sold her house. Marina had sold her flat. Each of the siblings had chipped in what they could, and when the pot was large enough, Lihle, Marina and her thirteen year old daughter Violett, had moved into a larger, three bedroom house in the Tableview suburb of Cape Town.

It was to this house, that Becky now drove, down a narrow, pretty street, lined on both sides by trees. Between the gaps in the leaves were walls, tall gates, and houses of brick and concrete, painted a range from terracotta to pale green. Most of the houses had one car, battered and dust covered like most of the cars she had seen in Nebraska, and so unlike the UK, where vehicles were regularly washed by rain. She felt a twinge of fondness for her home country - she had been away too long.

The family house was half way down the road, with a large tree casting the building into shade. Sitting casually on top of the wall, with a lollipop being rolled around her mouth, was Andi. As soon as she caught sight of her sister, she slid off the brick and opened the gate, allowing Becky to roll her D-Wheel gently into the short driveway, next to the hire car. As the bars closed up behind her, she killed the engine, and removed her helmet before her brain could melt. Flip-flops clacking against the drive, Andi skipped up behind her. Becky was impressed that she did not even stop to moan enviously at her D-Wheel before wrapping her arms over her shoulders.

"I missed you!" her little sister declared, her voice lisping through the lollipop. Something warm that had nothing to do with how hot it was in her leather jacket bloomed in Becky's chest, and she gave Andi a squeeze.

"Missed you too," she assured her, pulling back and fluffing her sister's short slightly frizzy hair. "And you're missing something since I last saw you. Looks good though - are you trying to trick the world into thinking you're sophisticated now?"

Andi stuck her tongue out around her lollipop. She had worn her long hair in corn rows for the last three years, but had chopped them off spontaneously a week before term had started, to the shock of everyone on facebook. "I have a boyfriend now, so I must be doing something right. How was the flight? Did you sleep?"

Becky snorted, completely aware that her sister had purposefully deflected any questioning about her recent acquisition. "Napping on and off. America was worse - fat guy next to me kept getting up to use the bathroom."

Andi gave a sympathetic suck on her lollipop before crunching it loudly. "Well Nana's on the barbecue for dinner, so the excitement'll wake you up if nothing else."

Laughter escaped in place of the yawn that had intended to leave Becky's mouth. Her grandmother had the discipline of a military mess officer when confronted with a family to feed. "Best not keep her waiting then."

Removing her case from the back of her bike, she followed her sister to the door. The entrance was littered with shoes, and Andi amused herself by kicking her flip flops as high as she could while Becky sat on her case to remove her boots. Nothing much had changed since their last visit. The front door opened out into the large, open plan living room, and through the archway on the left, she could smell the unmistakable scent of pumpkin and roasted meats. The nine tarantula tanks sat on the two display shelves opposite the doorway. Marina's theory was that any burglar would take one look at them and flee in terror. Fortunately this had yet to be tested. Their presence did seem to be effective, however, in deterring other spiders from the house.

"Andiswa, the ceiling!" their mother hurried over, drying her hands on a tea towel, before kissing her eldest daughter on both cheeks and squeezing her tight

"Sorry Mum," Andi deliberately lisped around her empty lollipop stick before spitting it into the bin. Becky chuckled and gave her mother a reassuring pat before pulling back.

"Missed you," she assured her. "Sorry I'm a bit late - you should have seen the traffic in the bowl."

"Still can't believe you brought your bike," Andi said, grabbing the case and wheeling it across the wooden floor, leaving a trail of dust behind. "What could possibly justify the expense?"

"One, being able to escape from you," Becky stuck her tongue out at her sister. "Two, it's one less person to fit in the car. Three, I know we're going duelling at least once on this holiday. And four, I might go meet up with some colleagues at some point."

Her mother's eyebrows pinched together in concern, as they always did when Becky mentioned anything to do with her mysterious job. The awkward air was swiftly broken by a loud voice.

"There she is!" charging through the archway in a whirl of orange and green, Becky had just a second to approve of the cheerful sparkle on Marina's face, before she was swept up in another hug. "It is so good to see you, my dear!" She kissed her on both cheeks, before holding her back to inspect her. "You look skinny! Did the Americans not feed you?"

Becky snorted. The idea of any of her teammates not eating bordered on absurd. "I traded any fat I had for muscle," she admitted. "It's far more useful." In fact she was pretty certain that Rayearth had a way of frightening the fat off your body, simply by looking at you across the training room.

"Oh we'll soon fix that," Marina waved a hand. "You are on holiday now. That means you relax! Let's get you a drink - oh and Xhosa for the evening. It's only fair on your Nana."

Becky nodded, mentally adjusting back to her mother tongue. Marina and Violett were both fluent in English and Afrikaans, but Lihle had never progressed beyond basic. "Where's Vi?" she asked, letting the familiar words materialise around her mouth.

"On campus," Marina said. "She'll be back in about half an hour. Ruan is working until seven, but he said he would try and leave early if he could. You and your sister are rooming with Vi - hopefully you can all squeeze in."

It was impossible to miss the way that Marina's smile became just a fraction wider as she mentioned her fiancé. Becky had already grilled her extensively on Facebook, pleased when she had nothing but good things to say. Violett too, had been happy with her mother's choice, and had been all too delighted to feed Becky some of the better reports. She had been particularly pleased to hear that Ruan had been mindful enough of Marina's feelings over her first marriage, to forego the traditional ukutwala. Instead, they had had a more tongue-in-cheek version where Ruan had 'kidnapped' her from work, and whisked her off to a hotel in Stellenbosch for a sneaky weekend break.

With apparent effortlessness, Marina steered the family into the kitchen, and began pouring her niece a drink. Her mother went back to the stove, where all manner of foods were already cooking away, the smells wafting around the room before disappearing out of the open back door. Becky could hear her grandmother loudly calling instructions, and her father appeared mildly windswept as he entered the kitchen with the empty serving dishes, stacked high in his arms.

"Hello love," he bent down to give Becky a kiss on the cheek. "How were your flights?"

"Boring," Becky replied immediately. She could have detailed the peeing American to him, but she had no room to complain - her father had once been on a flight where a seven month pregnant woman had gone into labour. "I stopped by the house before I left. Brought all the post in - your kitchen aid has arrived by the way. Sally has been round to feed Sandor - I ran into her while I was over. She said he got stuck on the shed roof again, so she's put a bucket on top of the fence post so he can't climb up there."

"Hmm…" her father deposited the serving dishes in the sink, a thoughtful look on his face. "I'll try do something about that when we get home."

"Not if the frosts have arrived you won't," her mother put in, removing her spoon from the sautéed pumpkin and pointing it at him like a weapon. "That garden is slippery at the best of times. I don't want to visit A&E again before Christmas."

"It wasn't that cold when I was there," Becky put in helpfully, inching past her parents towards the door. She loved them to pieces, but there was one more person that she had to say hello to before she could relax. She could smell the barbecue nearby, and she stepped onto soft grass, not caring that her feet were bare. It was hard to think about the chilly autumn air back home when she was sitting in twenty three degrees of evening sunshine.

Standing over the large barbecue pit, wielding a pair of tongs in each hand, Lihle appeared to be a magician, as she flipped joints of lamb on the coals, sending flames bursting into life around her. Two small chickens were skewered over the top rotisserie style, their skins already browning nicely. The smell made Becky's mouth water - she hadn't eaten since breakfast - and she skipped over to the barbecue and hovered over the shorter woman's shoulder.

"Something smells nice."

Lihle turned with a wide, mischievous smile. "Thank you dear - I am using a new perfume."

Becky chuckled, before she was wrapped in the comforting embrace of her grandmother. It resurrected every memory of visiting as a child, with soft fabric, motherly hands, and the scent of lime and bergamot.

"Missed you Nana." She got a little sniff as her grandmother drew back.

"I should hope so too!" the smaller woman said. In spite of her sixty five years, her face was still smooth and full, framed by her short black hair, dark brown eyes peering out behind thick lashes. Age did not seem to touch her, and Becky hoped that she would still be as energetic when she reached her retirement.

"Ooh look how big you are." As though expecting to find something, Lihle examined every inch of her granddaughter, from her bare feet, all the way up her jeans and vest top, to her face. Her eyebrows lifted in surprise, before knitting together with a knowing smile. To Becky's astonishment, she cupped her face, and traced a thumb across her cheek, right over her Shadowchaser mark.

There was a clack as a pair of flip flops were tossed onto the deck by the door.

"I don't know what you're carrying in that suitcase, Becks!" Andi's entrance was loud, and continuing before Becky could say a word. "But it better be bloody important! I almost broke a toe when I put it down!"

She felt as though someone had scrambled her thoughts, and she could still feel the tingle of her grandmother's thumb over her cheek. Their father was fast on her sister's heels, with clean dishes for the cooked meat, and Becky felt the warm strong hands squeeze both of hers.

"We'll catch up later, dear." Lihle promised, before going back to her rotisserie. "If you want to do your grandmother a favour Andiswa, you can go inside and grab my dish of sauce - I'm not convinced this chicken is ready to sing yet!"

OOO

"She looks like an extra in a badly made M. Night Shyamalan movie," Thando's eyes finished squinting at the camera phone image, before handing it back to his teammate and retreating behind the well worn sci-fi novel. "You think she's the one behind our vanishings?"

"Can't be a coincidence, Than," Bastien said. "The puddle of water was there just like all the others." He had already dropped the sample off to their resident marine biologist on the way home.

"But nobody's missing?" Thando checked, spinning his fork around in his rice with one hand, while the other turned a page.

"Nobody was there," he admitted. "All the Stone Cutters were up at Bellville, and Dvagar called everyone who went straight home from the match to make sure they were okay. None of them are missing."

"But the break in looks more like an animal," Thando pointed out. "A person would have taken something, not just caused chaos."

Bastien sighed heavily. "You're right. There's not much of a link. I just...have this feeling that they're connected."

He shook his head and went back to his own food. The chicken looked tender, and smelt delicious, but he was not sure if he felt like eating now. "So what happened in the Crossroads?"

"New red pin," Thando muttered grimly, jabbing his fork at the living room. "That's what happened."

"Shit. Seriously?" Bastien scooted his chair back to peer through the open door. Even from here, he could see the new flag protruding from the map of Cape Town, and his heart sank.

"Unfortunately yes," Thando nodded, his eyes darting over the lines of text in his book. "Two half-fiends and an incubus. And not just any incubus, either."

"Oh don't tell me," Bastien thumped the legs of his chair back into place, knowing just who his friend was referring to. Sarrelle was a frequent sight in Cape Town - they had never managed to find out who kept summoning him, but they seemed to have a taste for him in particular. Unfortunately, Sarrelle's tastes were far more extensive, and he regularly prowled the nightclubs of Cape Town looking for easy prey.

"Okay, I won't," Thando offered. "But it was them. Sky saw one of the girls in her class getting into a car with Sarrelle and his two buddies - apparently he's been pursuing her for a while. Sky ran to stop them, but before she could get there, all three demons vanished into thin air, and the car crashed straight into a house across the street."

Bastien groaned. "Was the girl hurt?"

"Nope," Thando shook his head. "Beyond screaming her head off, I mean. More than I can say for the house - whole thing was made of corrugated iron held together with chewing gum, by the looks of it. Sky got her student out of there, calmed her down and called me. No magic that I could see - I did look for a puddle, but to be honest, the road is dirt and probably sucked it up. I was just about to leave when the owner of the house showed up and decided to call the police." Abruptly, he started laughing. "Nkhosi was so mad that I got to the crime scene before he did. Practically accused me of having something to do with it."

"Hmm...he said something similar to me last week," Bastien mused aloud, picking some of his chicken off the bone. "You think we should ask Kloeter to get him to back off us a bit?"

"At this stage," Thando laced his fingers and sighed thoughtfully. "I think that would only make it worse. He seems pretty convinced that we are dealing in shady business. Better to keep him at a distance and not give him any excuse to think even worse of us."

"So glad I didn't run into him on the N2 then," Bastien snorted. "I spent more time over the speed limit than under it."

Thando's thoughtful expression became teasing. "That eager to pick up Becky, were you?"

"Give it a rest, Than," Bastien jabbed his fork at him. "I meant the orcs. I sent three of them to HQ for dangerous driving, highway robbery, possession of offensive weapons, and possession of amphetamines...oh! And driving without wing mirrors."

"Uh-huh," Thando seemed to remember that his own food was awaiting his pleasure, and he filled his fork to toppling point before shoving it in his mouth. "I'll send her the money when I have a moment - online banking keeps crashing."

"You can do it in person if you want," Bastien offered. "She might stop by while she's over. I did say I'd call her if anything weird came up."

He half expected some kind of retort about how Becky was on holiday, that holidays were meant for relaxing, and how he should try it himself with his own untouched twenty five days of paid leave. But Thando just shrugged and went back to his book.

"Fair enough. Speaking of visitors, I got a message from Dani, too."

He tossed his phone over, before going back to his book. Bastien never understood how Thando wound up with so many contacts. His own phone possessed less than ten.

"Good news - found Vuyo in Hwange. Bad news - found her in jail. Paid her release and heading back to SA. Should be over the border tomorrow morning. She'll be with you Thursday."

He'd signed his message off with a squinty faced emoticon that made Bastien laugh. Like all of them, Dani was fond of Vuyo, but he ended up spending most of his monthly budget paying her bail, or parting with very large bribes to secure her release. She might not have been a Shadowchaser, but she was far more useful to them outside of Zimbabwe's jails.

"I'll air out her room," he offered, rising from the chair, his half eaten food forgotten.

"I've already done it," Thando assured. "So you can sit and finish eating. Don't think I didn't see you skipping lunch."

Feeling a little deflated, but knowing better than to argue with his friend when he used that tone of voice, Bastien sank back into his chair, and speared a chunk of pumpkin, his mind too full of thoughts to even register that Thando had snuck cabbage onto his plate.

OOO

By the time the chicken was singing to Lihle's exacting standards, it was getting cooler, and the sky had exploded into a medley of pinks, blues and reds. They ate in the small garden, on a mishmash of chairs. Violett had returned home just five minutes prior to serving, and she, Becky and Andi had claimed the creaky wooden porch swing for dinner, and sat with plates on their laps, while Marina abandoned her host duties for two minutes to take photographs.

"You did hire a professional for the actual wedding, right?" Becky asked, as Marina began to upload the pictures to facebook. "Because you can't halt the service every five minutes to take selfies."

"She did," Violett assured her, as her mother huffed indignantly. "I made sure of it. And I've been coming back from uni regularly to check that she's not done anything silly."

She gave her mother a sweet smile, which prompted Marina to swat her on the shoulder.

"Which one of us is the parent, again?" she asked, pointedly, while Becky and Andi laughed over their lamb.

"At least you've only been down the road," Andi said. "I'll be three hours away from Mum and Dad next year, and with Becky moving out too who knows what they'll get up to without supervision."

"Uh oh," Becky's dad leaned over to his wife and whispered loudly. "They're on to us! Better cancel the house party, and move all the cannabis into the shed."

He got an elbow in the ribs, but Elize was trying not to smile in spite of herself.

"When do you move out, Becks?" Violett asked, squeaking as she accidentally dribbled pap down her chin. Chewing over her itinerary, Becky thought for a moment.

"About two days after we get back." She said. "I've seen the house - crashed there on Saturday actually. Judy moved out of halls last year so she's already living there."

"How are the girls?" her mother asked kindly. She approved of all of Becky's friends, and always asked after their wellbeing.

"Great. They all send their love." Actually, Emily had sung her love, loudly right in the middle of Carnaby Street, but her mother did not need to know that.

"Remind me what it is you do again?" Marina asked, her lips twitching at the corners through her mouthful of lamb. Becky rolled her eyes.

"Nice try Marina. I've told you all I can't say." She punctuated the statement by scooping up more food and shovelling it into her mouth.

"I still don't understand what sort of job requires an eighteen year old to sign a confidentiality clause," her mother muttered. The details of Becky's job - or rather, the lack of details - had bothered her since day one.

"The secret kind." Came the dry reply. The lies did not feel right on her tongue. She wasn't used to them. There had been no need to lie in Backwater - everyone who lived there knew who the Shadowchasers were, and what they were about. Secrecy was not necessary. Outside of that protected little town, the whole world needed shielding from her life. She found the sudden crushing weight of her secret hit her, like it hadn't done before.

"I still think she's working for the government," Andi whispered conspiratorially in Vi's ear.

"Definitely need to get rid of the cannabis then," her father muttered teasingly.

"Ignore them," Lihle put in, her voice firmly putting an end to the conversation. "They only make up stories because they wish their own lives were as interesting."

Marina snorted. "No thanks. I've already filled my excitement quota for my career!"

"Don't complain," Vi objected. "It got you a fiancé!"

"Still, I could live without having another guest die in my bathtubs, thank you!"

The conversation was calmly sidetracked, much to Becky's relief, and she sat back against the swing, as Marina began chatting about her work at the hotel, and the refurbishments due to take place in January.

On the other side of the house, a bike hummed into hearing range down the street.

"That'll be Ruan," Vi said, turning her wrist over to check her watch. "And what d'you know? He's home on time. Guess nobody else vanished today."

"Oi!" Marina scowled at her daughter. "It's not a laughing matter. I don't want any of you girls disappearing while you're here. If you go out together, you stick in groups - understand?"

Becky frowned - people vanished in South Africa every day, and it did not generate this level of caution. But any questions were curtailed as the front door was closed, and a pair of shoes were discarded with a thud by the entrance. "Hello?"

"Out the back, love!" Marina called. "Oh, and can you bring the wine from the fridge, on your way?"

"Only if you share it with me!" the feet padded through the kitchen, pausing at the fridge, before leading their owner out into the garden sunlight. Becky had seen pictures of Ruan before, via Vi on facebook, but she had never met him in person. He and Marina had met two and a half years ago, after the grisly death of a local celebrity in the Two Oceans hotel had brought the police investigating. As General Manager, it had been Marina's job to ensure that the business was kept running smoothly, in spite of Ruan and his officers traipsing all over her building. But in between trying to balance their conflicting interests, both detective and manager had developed a liking for one another, which had eventually turned into a romance after the case had closed and Ruan had worked up the nerve to ask Marina out for a drink.

Looking at him now, in the flesh, Becky could see why Marina liked him. Even at forty five, he had managed to retain most of his good looks. He had a strong solid build, no doubt from a life in the police, and an ease to his stride that she suspected put most victims of crime instantly at rest. A kind smile lit his eyes, and as he walked through the door and saw Marina, it turned especially warm. That more than anything reassured Becky once and for all, that this man was good enough for her.

"Sorry I'm late," he put the wine glasses and bottles down, before giving Marina a kiss on the cheek, though he directed most of his apology towards Lihle. The chef of the evening waved him off, and got to her feet.

"Budge up, dears. All the single ladies on the swing!"

"I'm not single!" Andi protested, pressing herself into the arm of the bench regardless.

"Yes, and I still want details of that, by the way," Becky informed her sister, sternly, wincing as she hip checked her cousin. It was a bit tight, but they managed to wedge themselves in, Becky leaning her head against her grandmother's shoulder once they were all settled. Having fetched his plate from the barbecue, Ruan took her vacated seat, balancing his plate on his knees.

"Okay, Ruan," Marina shifted forwards. "This is Becky. Becky, I'm sure you've guessed by now, that this must be Ruan."

"Really?" Becky grinned. "I thought he was here to serve us wine. You got my hopes up, Marina!"

Ruan laughed, and they both leaned forward awkwardly over their plates to shake hands, Becky accidentally elbowing Vi as she sat back.

"Did you skip lunch, again?" Marina asked with a reproving, but almost resigned sigh. Ruan's plate was stacked with a quarter chicken, a respectable portion of mutton, and a veritable rainbow of vegetables, with pap squashed precariously close to the edge of the plate.

"Had to. I was in court most of the morning, and then another three people disappeared from in front of a school in the Crossroads," he explained, spearing a chunk of chicken with a shard of pumpkin and beginning to eat. Marina and Vi exchanged looks, and Becky's mother made a gasp of sympathy.

"They weren't children, were they?" she asked, anxiously. Ruan snorted.

"No. Actually in this case it might have been a good thing. Eyewitnesses say it was three guys picking up a sixteen year old girl, who definitely wasn't related to any of them." He shot a dark look at his plate. "I have five eyewitnesses saying that one minute the four of them were driving a car, the next minute the car is in someone's house, and the three men have disappeared."

"You don't think that perhaps they just got out and ran away when they crashed?" Becky's father asked skeptically.

"No, it seems the crash was caused by the disappearance, rather than motivating it," Ruan explained. "Two parents, a teacher and the caretaker who witnessed it are supporting that statement."

"They can't seriously believe that people just vanish into thin air?" Andi's tone was scornful. "I know in some of the village people are still superstitious, but this is the city for crying out loud - let's have some common sense!"

"You'd be surprised," Becky corrected her sister thoughtfully. "Superstition isn't confined to small rural communities. In America your house can lose a third of its value if there is any history of it being haunted."

She neglected to mention that the house in the middle of downtown Lincoln that she had learned this from had actually been haunted.

"And remember," Vi added, as Andi groaned in exasperation. "South Africa still has an occult unit attached to its police force. That stuff still carries weight in this country."

Ruan sighed. "I'd kill right now to have the occult unit taking this case. At least then I wouldn't have to deal with the Shadowchasers cropping up at all my crime scenes."

It was a sheer fluke that Becky did not choke on her pumpkin. Instead she froze, her spine rigid against the swing, her fork still clenched between her lips. She relaxed only a fraction as she realised that the attention was firmly on Ruan's story, and not on her.

Or at least, most of the attention. A warm, slightly bony hand slipped into hers and gently squeezed it. Lihle had not been oblivious to her granddaughter's sudden tension, but she kept her gaze polite and in the direction of the conversation. Slowly, Becky let her spine curve back into the seat, and her breathing to start up again.

"Did they show up again?" Marina asked, clearly already knowing what the answer was going to be. For the first time that night, genuine irritation appeared on Ruan's face.

"Oh they didn't just show up this time - they were there first! One of the teachers thought that it would be a good idea to call them instead of the police! God knows why, and she definitely didn't feel like explaining it to me."

"Doesn't that count as obstruction of justice?" Becky's father asked.

Ruan shook his head. "My boss told me to give them access to the crime scenes and let them do what they wanted." His scowl became deeper. "It's corruption. I asked a few of my colleagues in special forces about them - trying to see if they're affiliated with anyone. The only person who knew anything was Jiri, and all he would tell me was that I didn't want to get involved with them."

It was taking all of Becky's self restraint not to jump to her organisation's defence. Each accusation was hitting her like a punch, and she was horrified to realise that there were tears brewing in the corner of her eyes. She had spent just over a year throwing herself into Shadowchasing, and doing good work that made her proud. And now she was being attacked and she could not even raise a word to protect the life that she had become a part of. Frustration and despair clawed inside her. Her grandmother's hand, which had never left hers, gave another grounding squeeze.

"Well, you're not the only one who had people getting in the way today," Lihle's voice was cheerful as she steered the topic away. "Elize and I went to meet Marina at the hotel for lunch, and we were almost run over by concierge carrying a racing car into the conference room."

As Marina launched into the full story of her day at work, Becky felt her grandmother's elbow nudge her gently, and she got up and followed her to the barbecue for seconds, all too aware that she had just dodged a very serious bullet, and even more acutely aware, that it was not going to be the last.

A/N: Look at that. A regular update! And I beat 7th Librarian to it today! He'll have his next chapter up soon. He swears it on his ticket to see The Last Jedi next week.

It's still a bit early for me to do any Shadowchaser Files - plus I don't think I've introduced anyone who needs one yet. We'll see how we go. I do have some planned, so have no fear - they will be around.

Hope everyone has a lovely Christmas. In the mean time, review my pretties! Click the shiny button and review! You know you want to...