“Such a person is also likely to react violently when anyone interferes or otherwise upsets those plans.”
“Which leads me to ask again, why now? Why tonight?”
“It’s probably got something to do with the fact we tracked down and killed his zombie this afternoon.”
Blume’s gaze shot to Tala’s. “You lot are supposed to inform us before taking any such action against our target.”
“The vampire wasn’t the target, but rather his creature.” Tala’s voice was mild, but annoyance lurked in her expression. “And Ms. Grace was uncertain as to whether it was even possible to trace someone who’d been dead for weeks.”
“That is not the point,” Blume snapped, then made a visible attempt to regain control of his annoyance. “We’ve been down this track before, Ranger. If you and your boss continue to flout the rules, we will issue a formal complaint to authorities.”
Tala raised an eyebrow, obviously unperturbed by the threat. “If you cared to check your partner’s voicemail, I think you’ll find we did, in fact, leave a message stating our intentions. It’s hardly our fault if he didn’t bother listening to it.”
“I will check the authenticity of that statement,” he said. “And hadn’t you better start securing the crime scene and collecting evidence?”
Annoyance flicked across Tala’s features, but all she did was smile and move toward the rear of the café and the shattered teacups.
“Just how did you track Mason?” Anna asked. “Via a finding spell?”
Her eyes were several shades darker than Belle’s—more a slate gray than silver—which suggested her heritage might be mixed despite the classic nature of her features. It could also explain why she was here.
“No, because I’m a far stronger psychic than a witch.” I leaned my arms on the table. Weariness was a drum beating fiercely through my system now, and it was all I could do to keep upright.
“So you used your psychometric skills and a personal item of his to track him?” When I nodded, she frowned and added, “I would have thought both the desecration involved in raising the dead and the malevolence of the man behind it would have made any personal item all but untouchable.”
“I used a silk glove to separate it from my skin.”
“Ah. Good thinking.”
“Where is the body now?” Blume said. “It will need to be appropriately dealt with—”
“Which has been done.” My voice was tight as I fought the images that instantly rose. “He just needs to be reburied and blessed.”
“And have you a similar means of finding the vampire?” Blume asked.
“If you can find me a personal item of his, then yes, I’ll have the means. Until then, I’m as clueless as the rest of you.”
“Somehow,” Anna murmured, “I’m doubting that.”
I didn’t glance at her. I didn’t dare.
Blume got his phone out and placed it on the table between us. “Right,” he said, as he pressed the record button. “A full report on both this afternoon’s and this evening’s events.”
“What, now? You have to be fucking kidding—”
“The sooner you comply, the sooner I can be out of your hair.”
You want me to do a little mind tinkering? Belle asked, sounding a little too eager. I’m sure I can find a way through his shields if I try hard enough.
As much as I’d love to say yes, it’s probably not the best idea with everyone else in the room.
I resolutely made the required report. It was quick and to the point, but it nevertheless took more minutes than I really wanted to waste.
“Anything else to add?” Blume said when I finished.
Nothing that I want to tell you. I shook my head.
He stopped recording then glanced at his phone as it beeped. “They’ve lost the vampire’s trail again.”
“No surprise, given what we’re dealing with,” Anna stated.
“I take it there’s no point in trying a location spell this evening?” Blume asked.
“We could try, but he’ll probably counter any such effort. It’s better to try tomorrow when the sun has forced him to sleep.”
Blume grunted and rose. “Then I will see you tomorrow.”
He was barely out of the door when Anna switched to attack mode. Her expression sharpened and her demeanor became more intense. My guard instantly went up, though against what I wasn’t entirely sure. It wasn’t as if she could read me. The spells in this place might be battered, but they weren’t defeated. I’d feel any attempt she made to short-circuit or slip past them.
“Who produced the spells that protect this place?”
It was a question I certainly hadn’t been expecting. “I did—why?”
“Because their construction is unusual.”
I forced a smile. “Because—as I’m sure you’re well aware—I’m not a vetted witch.”
“Accreditation has nothing to do with it, as that is little more than an allegiance ceremony.” She paused, her gaze narrowing. Her magic played across mine, but it wasn’t an attack. It was, instead, the sort of examination an entomologist might give a newly discovered bug. “All incantations have strict lines of structure—it is a formality that is deliberate, and one intended to protect both the witch and the world from which we draw power.”
“Are you saying my magic is dangerous?”
“Possibly, given it not only possesses little in the way of recognizable structure, but also an unrestrained wildness. I’ve never come across anything like it.”
“The wildness is easily explained—I cast a spell in the cemetery last night, but the wild magic caught and altered it.”
“That is not unheard of, and generally why it is recommended not to cast when near a wellspring,” she said. “But it doesn’t explain the wildness in your magic.”
“It does if remnants of the wild magic were still clinging to me when I boosted the layering protecting us.” I shrugged. “As to the unstructured nature of my spells, well, it isn’t altogether surprising given my lack of official training.”
Which was only a half lie—I certainly hadn’t received any training after I’d run from my family and Canberra. But witches from the royal line started learning spells and control almost as soon as they could walk. By the time I’d left home, I’d had more than sixteen years of study behind me. I might not have honed my skills by moving on into university, but my knowledge was nevertheless fairly extensive.
It just wasn’t as extensive—just as I wasn’t as powerful—as any of my siblings’.
Her expression remained unconvinced. “Even if you didn’t receive formal training—and I find that highly unlikely—why is there no record of you in the archives?”
My heart began to race. This was not a line of questioning I really wanted to get into. “Because I’m not from Victoria.”
“Perhaps, but there’s also no record of you in the South Australian archives, and that is where you told Hart you were from.”
“No, I said Belle and I had come here from South Australia. I didn’t say I was born there.” I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “If you’re looking for my birth certificate, try Darwin. But it’s not going to tell you much other than the name of my parents—who are Kate and Lance Grace, if you must know.”
“What year were they assigned to Darwin?”
“My parents weren’t witches, but rather psychics. The hair and the little magic I possess come from my grandmother, who was the result of a brief dalliance with a blueblood. She was both unregistered and unvetted.”
“Which rather conveniently means there’s no way of checking your story other than checking your birth records and tracking down your family.”
“Good luck with the latter,” I said, with a very real edge of bitterness in my voice. “Because they want as little to do with me as I do with them.”
“Because of your magic?”
“Yes.” I didn’t bother hiding either my anger or the lingering hurt. It was
real, even if the rest of the story wasn’t. “Neither of them shared my grandmother’s attraction to witches or magic. They spent my growth years trying to smother the skill.”
“Which is a perfectly believable explanation for the free-spirited nature of your magic.”
And not one she actually did believe, if her expression was anything to go by.
“Why the third degree?” I asked bluntly. “In case it’s escaped your notice, that bastard has tried to kill me twice now. How about using your considerable power to track him down rather than trying to unravel my unremarkable past?”
“Fine,” she said, her expression hardening. “Why did you lie when Blume asked if you had any means of tracking the vampire?”
“It wasn’t a lie, because I’m not sure I can track him. All I have is a piece of jewelry he might have given Karen.” I shrugged again. “Whether he’s held it long enough to enable me to find him is debatable.”
“So why haven’t you made an attempt?”
“I was intending to tonight, but sadly the zombie quest and another attempt on my life sidetracked me.”
If she heard the sarcasm, she ignored it. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d need the power of the moon to bolster your resources.”
“Then you thought wrong.”
Her smile was polite but her eyes gave the game away. They glittered with annoyance. She waited until Tala had walked past, and then said, “May I see this pendant?”
Though it was posed as a question, it really wasn’t. I rose and walked down to the reading room to collect it.
Anna held out her hand when I returned and I dropped the bloodstone into it. She frowned, and once again a strand of her power reached out, this time examining the pendant as she rolled it over in her hand.
“There is definitely some sort of spell attached to this stone, but it’s been very cleverly disguised.”
“Hence the reason I wanted the moon’s help.”
She nodded. “Now that I’ve seen this, I can understand your caution. The spell threads alter composition and appearance from different angles.”
“It also feels foul.”
“That is natural, given blood has been used in whatever incantation has been placed on this.”
“Do you think you’ll be able to unpick the spell, or even trace him through it?”
“Possibly.” She closed the fingers around the pendant. “I’ll try tonight. It would be a shame to waste the power of the moon.”
I hesitated. “Do you want some help?”
“You’ve barely enough strength to stay on that chair.” She patted my arm—a comforting gesture that nevertheless felt patronizing. “I’ll cast a full circle—between that and the moon, it should be more than enough to cope with the likes of our vampire.”
“Except our vampire has studied the dark arts and appears to have at least some working knowledge of common witch spells,” I said. “And given what happened to me, I’d also be very wary of the wild magic if you’re heading into the woods. It’s unguarded, so—”
“No,” she cut in. “It’s not.”
I frowned. “But the rangers told me the assigned witch had been evicted over a year ago—”
“Be that as it may, his presence remains.” She rose. “Gabe is a friend. I’d know his touch anywhere. Good night.”
I stared after her, confusion swirling. Surely even the most powerful witch around could not hide from three wolf packs for over a year. Someone, somewhere, would have seen or scented him.
Aiden appeared, giving Anna a brief nod before striding toward me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded. “There’s nothing wrong with me that a good fifty hours of sleep and several slabs of steak wouldn’t fix.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “I take it, then, that Blume wasn’t too rough?”
“No—although he did threaten to report the lot of you if you didn’t start passing on information.”
“It’s not the first time they’ve threatened that, and it probably won’t be the last.” He stopped opposite me and shoved his hands deep into his coat pockets. The energy that radiated off him was fierce and filled with the heat of the night. While the full moon didn’t actually force werewolves to change, it took a lot of willpower to ignore its call to run wild and free. “We didn’t catch the bastard.”
“So Blume said. Do you think magic was involved?”
“Possibly, given the trail went cold between Creswyn and Friar’s Point for no damn reason.” He rubbed his jaw. “I’ve asked the Sinclairs to keep an eye out, as the Point is part of their range.”
“If he is there, wouldn’t they have sensed him by now? I thought you said packs don’t allow uninvited strangers on their lands.”
“The Sinclairs have a somewhat more relaxed attitude to it than either the Marin or O’Connor packs.” He glanced around as Tala approached. “All done?”
“For now.” She looked at me. “I’ll need to get a formal statement for our records tomorrow, though, if you’re up to it.”
“As long as it’s in the afternoon rather than some ungodly hour before noon, it should be okay.”
“Done,” Aiden said. “We’d better let you get some rest.”
“Thanks.”
It was only after they’d left that Belle came down, looking every bit as tired as I felt. Her gaze hit the mess of broken cups and plates, and her expression dissolved into dismay. “The bastard has taken out some of my favorite pieces.”
“Better them than my head.”
“I guess.” She laughed and ducked away from my halfhearted attempt to whack her. “Let’s clean up this mess in the morning. I seriously can’t face it right now.”
“Agreed.”
She turned around and headed back upstairs. I trailed after her and, for the second time that night, was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
Warmth touched my skin who knows how many hours later. It was so light it was barely even a caress, but it was one that was both familiar and yet oddly alien. For several seconds I wasn’t even sure if it was real, or merely the last hurrah of a dream I couldn’t remember.
Then it ran across my skin again, its touch flame-like and oddly filled with a sense of urgency.
I opened my eyes to discover a wisp hovering in front of my face. The same wisp, I thought, that had answered my request for help in the forest.
The minute it noticed I was awake, it darted to the door then spun around and returned. It was pretty obvious it wanted me to follow.
I climbed out of bed and pulled on jeans and a sweater while the wisp hovered next to my shoulder, its light pulsing at an ever-increasing rate, seeming to suggest impatience.
“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” I grabbed my coat and headed for the door. “Belle? You awake?”
“I am now,” she mumbled. “What’s up?”
“There’s a wisp in our hallway and it wants me to follow him.”
“The lunar effect is certainly in full force tonight.” She appeared in the doorway. “You want company?”
“No. I just want you to lock the door and get some damn sleep. I’ll give a mental yell if I need any help.”
“Yell loud, otherwise I won’t hear you over the protection spells around the bedrooms.”
The wisp darted between us then spun away.
“I think it’s urging you to get a move on,” she added.
“I think you’re right.” I clattered down the stairs after it but detoured into the reading room to grab Belle’s knife and the backpack. After tonight’s events, I wasn’t about to head anywhere without more immediate means of protection. Incantations were all well and good, but they weren’t of much help in situations that gave you no time for spelling.
Once outside, the wisp darted forward, forcing me to run or risk losing it. I wasn’t entirely surprised to discover it was leading me back to Kalimna Park. Once again the trees grew close, their branches looming overhead and blotting out the moon’s light. It didn’t matter, because I
could feel her power pulsing through my blood.
The wisp finally dived off the road and into the trees. I slowed and followed. I’d already crashed through this place once—I had no desire to repeat the process, especially when I had no idea what lay at the end of this journey.
The wisp darted back and forth, seemingly determined to make me hurry. I tripped over a couple of times but did at least avoid getting my clothes snagged or my face cut this time.
Once again the land began to rise, and a sense of déjà vu hit. We were approaching the clearing in which I’d found Karen.
Trepidation stirred. I caught the flyaway ends of my coat and hugged them closer, but it didn’t make me feel any warmer. Didn’t do anything to ease the growing conviction that death once again would be found in that place.
We reached the top of the hill and the trees once again thinned out. The wisp shot forward, just as it had the first time, its bright light flooding the clearing.
Lying in the middle of it was Anna’s broken and bloody body.
Chapter Ten
I fought the instinct to run over to her. The specter of death wasn’t hovering nearby, which meant she was hurt and unconscious rather than in any immediate danger of dying, and it was more than possible that this was yet another trap.
I studied the clearing through narrowed eyes but couldn’t see any indication of evil. Nor was there any sort of shimmer to indicate magic was present, although remnants of it floated in the air, the broken threads glinting softly whenever the wisp’s cool light caressed them.
I carefully moved forward. The wisp spun in a quick circle, once again urging me to hurry. I didn’t. I had no idea what had happened here, and no desire to run into any more trouble. I might not be able to see any active spells, but those floating thread remnants indicated magic had been in use. And while I’d undergone full witch training—up until I’d fled Canberra and my family, anyway—I had no doubt there were avenues of magic, and mountains of spells, that I had absolutely no awareness of. It was more than possible that these threads were not actually broken, but part of one such spell.