“Why do men do so many things?” Her smile was one of cool amusement. “Of course, vampires by nature are loners and predators. Once he was in full control, he was released, as is our way.”
“Was his maker also a blood witch or sorcerer? Because as a Waverley, he wouldn’t have been born with the power he now has.”
“She was not,” Maelle said. “But it is not uncommon for those who must survive on blood to sometimes use it to enhance their powers in other areas.”
Trepidation stirred. “Have you dabbled in such enhancement?”
Her smile was oddly predatory, even if it held no immediate threat. “I certainly have a small understanding of it, but no more than that. Such study is not without its risks, and I have no desire to fall down that particular rabbit hole.”
“Would madness be one of those risks?”
“Not madness, not as such. But a singularity of thought and inability to think beyond their own wants and needs, yes.”
Singularity of thought was certainly an apt description for Frederick Waverley’s current actions. “Have you any idea how long he was here the first time?”
“The records have it listed as five years, though he did not come into Castle Rock itself until the latter stages of that period.”
“And he’d formed a pod by that time.”
It was a statement more than a question, but she nodded in affirmation anyway. “And one of those women had a daughter by the name of Frieda. She had been gifted with blood.”
Surprise rippled through me. Though I’d initially suspected the pod’s abrupt departure from the reservation was indicative of that possibility, it made Waverley’s current determination to avenge Frieda’s death that much stranger.
“So she’s alive?”
“No. Though her initiation and subsequent turning was indeed registered, the transfer wasn’t fully successful, and she wasted away ten days later.”
“I didn’t even know it was possible for the blood sharing to fail.”
“It always depends of the strength and mental stability of both the host and the turnee.” She shrugged. “It is obvious that, in this case, neither were up to scratch.”
It also meant Frieda could have taken her life so she could rise and take revenge on those who’d made her life hell—and that the note had been nothing more than subterfuge.
“Does this mean the registrar can pinpoint Frederick’s location for us?”
“Within a certain radius, yes.” She reached into her pocket then slid a piece of paper across the table to me. On it was a coordinate range—and it seemed an overly large area in which to search to me. But I guessed it was better than nothing. “There’s one other thing you need to be aware of.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And that is?”
“The means of possible survival if indeed you find yourself caught in the trap of his magic.”
Possible, not probable. But still, a slight chance was better than none at all. “I’m interested.”
“As indeed you should be, given you are neither a fool nor weak.” Her cool smile flashed again, but there was something in her tone, something that skirted the compliment and spoke instead of caginess. “Whatever else Frederick has become, whatever power he has drawn to him, he is in the end still a vampire—and one that has more than certainly fallen down the rabbit hole. Blood—human blood—will always distract him.”
I stared at her, my heart suddenly racing in my chest. It said a lot for her self-control that there wasn’t even a flicker of awareness in her eyes, nor any sign of hunger.
“Using myself as bait like that would be a very dangerous step to take.” And one I might not survive.
“Indeed it would.” She finished her tea and replaced the cup on the saucer. The normally cheery chime of china against china sounded more like a death knell. “But if he is magically stronger than you, or if he places you in a situation where you cannot access your own magic, then the blood rapture will perhaps be your one chance. If nothing else, it will give others the time to kill him.”
I rose with her, my heart still racing rather uncomfortably. “If the registrar knew he was unstable, why wasn’t he dealt with before now?”
“Because they were not aware of the situation until I informed them. They also cannot move without proof of crime—which we now have, given he has been located in this reservation, and I am the only registered vampire in the area.”
“So they’re now on their way to deal with him?” Meaning neither Aiden nor I had to?
She hesitated. “Because we are within a reservation, the situation is a little trickier. They will certainly approach the council for permission to do so when they arrive here.”
“And when is that likely to be?”
“They have not given me an exact time, but it will be sometime within the next twenty-four hours.”
“That may not be quick enough.” Not if the gnawing sensation in my gut was anything to go by.
“There is nothing I can do about that.” She paused at the door and gave me a polite nod. “Until next we meet, young Elizabeth.”
“Thanks for the information,” I said. “I appreciate it.”
“As you should.” This time, amusement edged past the coolness in her pale eyes. “It is not every day I am so overly helpful.”
“Then why have you been so now?”
“Because I have discovered over the long years of my life that when there are two powers within a given district, it is always better that they at least be respectful of one another. It is certainly preferable to a relationship based on animosity and distrust—that only ever ends badly.”
Which was a warning, even if it was pleasantly said. “A sentiment I agree with.”
“Good. I’m glad we understand each other.”
With that, she left. I watched until she disappeared around a distant corner, and then closed the door and went upstairs.
Sleep hit hard and fast, but so too did the dreams.
Aiden featured prominently, as did shoes.
Not just any shoes, but black-and-white wingtips.
Wingtips that were saturated in blood.
Chapter Eleven
It was nearly noon by the time I clattered down the stairs. The café was surprisingly full, so I swung into the kitchen to help Mike out. Once the lunch rush had eased, I sliced some ham from the bone to make sandwiches for both Belle and me, and then walked across to a corner table bathed in sunshine. She appeared a few minutes later and placed a tray holding a large teapot and a couple of cups on the table.
“You look like shit,” she said, as she dropped down on the seat opposite.
I snorted softly. “Pot, meet kettle.”
“Yeah, but my eye baggies couldn’t hold a decent-size purse. I’d wager yours can.” She reached across and snagged one of the sandwiches. “So where did the wisp lead you?”
I brought Belle up to speed and then said, “I don’t suppose the gossip vine had an update on Anna’s condition this morning?”
She shook her head. “They’ve been too busy ruminating on the reasons why someone might have shot at our door.”
“Any interesting theories?”
“I think the best suggested Rosie was expressing her annoyance that we hadn’t been able to find her diamond ring.”
I blinked. “I can’t remember meeting a Rosie, let alone being asked to find her diamond.”
“You weren’t. According to another of the gossips, Rosie has dementia and was referring to a past psychic rather than us.”
“Oh. Good.”
Belle reached for another sandwich half. “I have been giving the wisp’s appearance here some thought, however.”
“Why? It’s more than likely Anna sent him.”
“Given the state you found her in, it’s doubtful she would have had the strength for any sort of magic, let alone be coherent enough to command a wisp.”
“Agreed, but wisps aren’t known for randomly deciding to help like that.”
Leading people astray, most certainly. But even then, it was generally only after they’d been called on for help.
“Which—when combined with the fact the wild magic interfered with your spell in the cemetery—suggests there is a greater force at work here.”
“Meaning you think Anna’s right? That the missing reservation witch is still here somewhere?”
“I think it’s a possibility. There’s an unusual sentience in the magic of this place.”
I brushed the crumbs from my fingers. “I don’t suppose the spirits have anything to say about that possibility?”
“What do you think?”
“I think one of these days they’re going to give us a direct answer and we’re both going to keel over in shock.” I leaned back. “I also think the vampire will make his final move tonight.”
Concern flickered through her silver eyes. “You dreamed again?”
“Yes, but they weren’t really clear and didn’t make a whole lot of sense.” I shrugged. “I just woke up with the sense that it would all soon end—but not before blood is spilled.”
“Your dreams can be as unhelpful as the damn spirits.”
Wasn’t that the truth. I glanced past her as the door chime sounded and Aiden appeared. He spotted us immediately but the smile that tugged his lips failed to lift the weariness from his eyes.
“Afternoon, ladies.” He sat between us, his knee lightly resting against mine. It said a lot about my state that my pulse could do little more than briefly flutter.
“You look as if you not only need a strong coffee,” Belle said, as she pushed upright, “but a rather large energy jolt in the form of a chocolate brownie slab.”
“Maybe not a slab,” he said, expression amused. “The rest of your customers might complain if I devoured the lot.”
“Most of our customers haven’t got a full evening ahead of them.”
Aiden’s gaze shot to mine as she left. “I take from that comment you dreamed again last night?”
“I did. About shoes.”
Surprise briefly flared across his expression. “I know shoe fetishes are common amongst women—my sisters included—but it’s taking it a bit far to dream of them, isn’t it?”
I couldn’t help smiling, and had a vague feeling that was exactly what he’d intended. “I think most women would disagree with you on that.”
“So what was so special about these shoes?”
“They were black-and-white wingtips, and covered in blood.”
“The blood obviously signifies our vampire, but I can’t see the connection with the wingtips.”
“I saw them at the cabin that appeared in the first dream. I believe they’re his.”
“Even if they are, that’s not really going to help find either the cabin or the vampire. And it’s hardly practical to put an all-points out on a pair of shoes.”
“I know that.”
Belle brought over a mug of coffee and several pieces of the brownie, then left again. I drank my tea while he all but inhaled the rich slice.
“There is more if you want it,” I said, amused.
His smile flashed, and this time it was full-blown and decidedly sexy. “Tempting, but even a werewolf’s faster metabolic rate has its limits.”
“The calories in chocolate don’t count, and that’s a fact.”
“So Ciara insists.”
“She sounds like a sensible woman.”
“Sometimes,” he murmured. “But mostly not.”
The love he had for his sibling was very evident in his expression, and I couldn’t help the slight twinge of envy. Despite the fact I’d nearly died trying to save my sister, I wouldn’t have said any of us were that close.
“Did you manage to pull any information from last night’s shooter?”
Aiden nodded. “He’s not been overly helpful, though. He was hired a week ago, but can’t tell us who by and wasn’t called into action until last night.”
“And do you believe he’s telling the truth?”
He hesitated. “I’m inclined to. He did say he wasn’t the only gun hired, but he wasn’t sure what the others were up to. He was told to keep low until contacted.”
“Was he able to give you the names and a description of the other men?”
“Again, no. But he was able to provide one for our vampire. We’ve put a reservation-wide alert out, so we’ll be contacted if anyone stumbles into him.”
If anyone stumbled into him, they’d be dead. I crossed my arms and said, “Tell me about Gabe.”
All trace of amusement disappeared. He picked up his coffee and drank it—taking the time to carefully choose his words and cut the possibility of emotion spilling over, I knew.
“Gabe was assigned to us three years ago,” he said eventually, “after the witch who’d been with the reservation for over fifty years decided to retire.”
“Replacing a long-term incumbent would have been no easy task.”
“Tarkan did indeed leave big shoes to fill. But Gabe was young, personable, and I don’t think he was disliked by anyone in the reservation—even me.”
“So what happened to change that?”
“It started when he and my youngest sister began dating—and, before you say it, I had no objections. Kate—Katie—might have been only nineteen, but she was well able to protect herself both physically and emotionally.”
Might have… two words that spoke volumes.
“She’d been ill for months that same year—constant colds or fevers, weight loss, bruising easily.” He hesitated. Grief ran through him, even if none of it reached his expression. “It took them a year to diagnose it as acute lymphocytic leukemia.”
Which was a form of cancer… and if ever there was a single word that had the power to strike fear in even the strongest person, it was that one.
“Isn’t that curable?”
“If it’s caught in time, yes. It wasn’t.”
I reached out and placed a hand on his. Despite the fact I had all my shields up, his grief stormed my senses and had tears stinging my eyes. “I’m sorry, Aiden.”
He shifted his hand, briefly gripping mine before releasing me.
“She began treatment immediately, but she just got sicker. We knew—” He paused and looked down at his hands. “When she approached my father wanting permission to marry Gabe, the pack made no objection, even though it went against tradition and rules.”
I blinked. I hadn’t been aware werewolves deliberately avoided anything more than a casual relationship with humans, but I guessed it did explain the very rare mention of half-breeds throughout the annals of history. And it was something both Belle and I had better keep in mind if either of us did start wanting something more than casual.
Not going to happen, Belle said. It’s all about the sex, remember. Hot, steamy, luscious sex.
Idiot. To Aiden, I added, “Did they get the chance to marry?”
“Yes. But that’s when the problems started.”
I frowned. “Marriage changed their relationship?”
“No. They were still besotted with each other. But Katie got sicker, and grew to hate all the drugs and the chemo and how they made her feel.”
“I believe that’s common—”
“Yes, but in this case, Gabe convinced her that he could do what science could not. She trusted him, ended her treatments, and died.”
His bitterness and anger was so strong it broke through the barriers of his self-control and filled his voice.
My fingers twitched with the need to reach out and comfort him again, but I resisted. The force of his emotions was bad enough as it was—touching him might blow a circuit.
“As heart-wrenching as that must have been,” I said, picking my words carefully, “it’s hardly a crime. So why is there still a warrant out for his arrest?”
“Because she didn’t just die. She was murdered. We found her body in the middle of a pentagram, a blade in her heart, and his fingerprints on the hilt.”
“But he couldn’t have—” I checked the rest of the sentence, but far too late.
“Don’t tell me he couldn’t when he very obviously did.” Aiden’s voice was quiet, but filled with an anger that lashed as sharply as any whip. “He killed her, and then he ran.”
No, I wanted to repeat, not possible. Not if he loved her as fiercely as Aiden had implied.
But then, who was I to say the pain of watching his wife fade away hadn’t somehow made him lose his mind?
“Where did you find her? Within pack grounds?”
“No. We might have been able to stop him if it had happened there.”
I frowned. “Does that mean you had some warning?”
“Kate left us a note.” Just for an instant, I saw the glimmer of tears. “She said she’d had enough of the pain, that if she was going to die anyway, she’d do it her own way, on her own terms. She said that Gabe had agreed to help her—that in doing this, she would be free and forever a part of the reservation.”
Which was an odd statement to make. While ghosts certainly did exist, they were usually souls who had either died violently and unexpectedly, or those who—for whatever reason—refused to move on. His sister didn’t seem to fit either description. “Where did you find her?”
“In the St. Erth forests, which is Marin territory.”
“Why didn’t they question her presence there? Didn’t you say they—like the O’Connors—are rather restrictive about who can and can’t enter their grounds?”
“When it comes to humans, yes, but it’s not unusual for wolves to pass through the outskirts of each other’s territories, and in this case, Gabe was accompanied by my sister. By the time they realized something was wrong, it was too late.”
I think we need to see that place, Belle commented. If Anna is right, if Gabe is here, then he’s most likely to be in the area where her soul resides.
Except that’s impossible. The Marins would have found him by now.
Normally, yes, but if he’s somehow managed to tap into the wild magic, then perhaps he’s using it to hide his presence. Ask Aiden if he’ll show you the area, she said. See what he says.