Nightmare

71

Nightingale finished drying himself and tossed the towel into the bath. He’d used a nailbrush to clean his hands, feet and under his nails, and he’d used mouthwash and brushed his teeth thoroughly. His bloodstained clothes were draped over the toilet. Jenny’s blood. Nightingale shivered, but it wasn’t from the cold. ‘I’m sorry, kid,’ he muttered to himself. ‘But I’ll make it right. I promise.’

He padded naked into the bedroom. The pentagram was already prepared, with large black candles at the five points, and the herbs he needed were in a brass crucible in the centre, along with the parchment.

He took a deep breath and stepped into the magic circle. He picked up his cigarette lighter and began to light the candles, moving anti-clockwise around the circle.