PROBLEM - Anthony Lockwood

CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE

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lv

teeny bopper drama

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IT WAS STRANGE to feel so antagonised by someone so different. Alice didn't have to take a second glance to know that Flo Bones was as human as they came and probably didn't have a drop of witch blood in her for generations. But that didn't make her any less pissed.

In the past, witches had looked down on mortals. Sneering down at what they believed to be the lesser species.

Alice had never believed the perverted ideas of her forebearers, but as she glared at the back of Flo Bones' hat she was beginning to realise where they came from. Flo thought she was all that, but the ironic reality was, even though she looked down at and sneered at Alice, a spell from her lips could send the girl reeling.

Alice could even kill her, in the blink of an eye, and it wouldn't even take any effort.

The relics in Flo's hands whispered power.

Those relics could take away her life force in mere minutes, if Alice said the word.

"Agents make things safe," Alice hissed, "And relicmen and women-"

"Woman, actually." Flo declared, not bothering to turn as she spoke, "I'm my own boss."

Alice rolled her eyes, "Oh, you're not like the other girls, are you? It's nothing to be proud of, love."

Flo stopped walking at the insult, turning to face Alice and glaring, "It's nothing to be ashamed of neither. Look, love, this river's filled with the ghosts of men who've been murdering since this city was made. Almost all the girl ghosts were their victims. The only reason these are worth anything is because she was so rare."

Alice let a cold, mocking laugh fall from her lips. She suspected that, despite how tough Flo acted, she herself had never killed anyone. No one that proud and nonchalant had. "Oh wow, a female serial killer. Aspirational." She turned to Lockwood, "Gods, can we go now?"

"The world that made women give their babies away, that's the evil!" Flo snapped, causing Alice to turn around again, "And it never ends!"

Alice scoffed, eyes filling with rage. "You think I don't know anything about this world? I'm Adelaide Deane, bitch, I've buried more of my own sisters than you can imagine! You chase those relics, but gods forbid you actually live the life of one of those poor women."

Flo rolled her eyes, "It's a tough world, skank! Some of us have to do some unfavourable things to survive."

"Oh please," Alice hissed, she looked Flo up and down, just like the taller girl had done to her previously, "I'd say you don't know poverty until your surviving off of rainwater and worms, but judging by your outfit you already do."

Flo gave a harsh laugh, "At least I don't dress like I'm giving head to half the agents in London."

Realising that this had gone way to far, Lockwood stepped forward, pulling Alice behind him slightly. "Hold on, just forget about all of this! Flo - I know a buyer."

Alice face burned with betrayal. "Anthony!"

"It's the Foundling Museum. They'll pay more than the black market, and it's a good home. A safe one," Lockwood put across.

Flo raised her eyebrows, "And get arrested for my trouble? No thanks."

Lockwood stepped forward, "Not if you're anonymous, and I'm the intermediary."

Alice watched the situation with wide eyes, a lump in her throat. She was about thirty seconds away from ditching them both and going to search for the bone glass herself.

Perhaps Tommy had been right.

Because, even though her week back in Pendle had been hellish, he'd managed to look her in the eye long enough to say one thing: 'You'll come back. They won't tolerate you forever, I know it. You don't fit in there, Adelaide.'

Alice watched as Flo looked up at Lockwood. "What a nice boy you are, Locky. Helps to be born minted, of course."

Lockwood's eyes hardened. "And in return, you'll tell us what you know about Danny Clough."

Flo faltered. "What happened to Danny?"

...

Alice sat against the wall in a dingy tea shop near enough to the river that her head was hurting from being in such proximity to running water.

Running water was like silver. It would kill or burn like iron or mountain ash, but slowly and surely, it'd drain the life out of a witch.

She mixed in two heaped spoons of sugar into the tea, with the past and coming events of the night, Alice suspected she'd need all the energy she could get. She looked hard at the mug and purposely kept her gaze away from Flo, who stood at the counter, clearly glancing at them.

Lockwood buttered some toast, pushing it towards her. "Here. For you."

Alice looked from the toast to Lockwood. She was hungry but she was also petty. "I don't want it."

Lockwood frowned. "I'm sorry, Ally. Just bare with me here, we need her."

Alice let her hair fall in front of her face, forming a curtain between her face and Lockwood. She rested her head on her hand, elbow resting against the table.

Her fingernails strayed to her hairline.

To Flo Bones, Alice was a whore in a short skirt. To the rest of the whole country, she was a whore in red lipstick.

Witch.

Alice hated herself.

Did Lockwood tell her? Is that why she assumed Alice to be nothing more than someone who lifted up her dress at the first pretty remark her way. She'd practically done so for Lockwood yesterday.

She'd let him kiss her and then leave like it was nothing.

The lingering feeling of his lips on hers felt almost suffocating now. Alice wanted to throw up.

She dug her nails into her skin.

In seconds, Lockwood's hand was on her thigh, his touch hot against her skin. "Ally."

Alice recoiled from his hand, "Don't touch me." Her hand fell from her head. She glared at him. "I'm not your 'slapper'."

Lockwood's eyes widened as he searched her face. "Ally, I'm sorry."

Alice's eyes were full of hurt when she stared back at him. She wished she'd never kissed him back. She hated it. The way he looked at her. The way he held her. So gently, like she was fagile and he was afraid he'd break her. She despised his kindness now. It was suffocating.

Everything was closing in on her now.

The way he looked at her wasn't like an embrace anymore, it was a cage.

She hated the emotion in his eyes.

How dare he look at her with so much emotion but also refuse to acknowledge anything?

Alice wished she'd burned to death on Sheen Road.