Hell's Bell

  “They’re making a decision about Belle and me, aren’t they?” I all but whispered. “That’s why you warned us last night not to do anything to jeopardize our position here.”

  “Yes. They received a copy of the RWA’s final report on the vampire event. It included advice that the council asks the High Council for tenders to be sent out to fill the position of reservation witch, otherwise they’ll force the issue by notifying them we have a large, unprotected wellspring.”

  “It’s rather unusual for the RWA to give them that option—especially given it’s now been a year since there’s been a full witch on the reservation.”

  “I suspect they still believe Gabe is here somewhere, but know they can’t risk leaving the wellspring without an official protector any longer.” He half shrugged. “It’s their butts on the line as much as ours if something does go wrong, given they should have forced the issue when Gabe first disappeared.”

  “But how does any of that relate back to Belle and me?”

  Even as I asked the question, I knew. Any official report would have to mention our presence here. And while I very much feared the werewolf council’s reaction to us being called out as witches rather than psychics, I was even more worried about the report finding its way into the wrong hands up in Canberra. It was unlikely anyone on the council or even my direct family would be the ones checking it out, but I certainly had plenty of other relatives who worked with lower government departments. Two witches bearing the coloring of the Marlowe and Sarr lines but not their surnames might just raise some unwanted flags.

  Whether those flags would result in the action I feared was another matter entirely. One I’d probably have nightmares about.

  “The report finished with the comment that while the two unregistered witches currently on the reservation were quite capable and did seem to have an affinity with the wild magic,” Aiden said, “it would not be enough to either protect it or the reservation from the darker forces that will be drawn here.”

  So the truth of what we were—that we weren’t just psychics capable of minor magic—was officially out. I scrubbed a hand across my eyes and then met his gaze. There was no sense of recrimination or anger in his expression, and that made me feel even worse. “So the council is currently deciding what to do with us?”

  “The council has apparently decided. Tonight’s meeting is to inform the pack elders and me as to whether I’ll have to evict you or not.”

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “For fuck’s sake, it’s almost Christmas. It takes a special brand of bastard to do something like that at this time of year.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry, but I have no say in council matters.” He caught my hand and squeezed it lightly. His fingers were warm against mine, and yet I found no comfort in his touch. “A number of us spoke up in favor of allowing you to remain. And your assistance in stopping the vampire will play in your favor.”

  “You spoke in our favor?”

  “I may have been a bit of a bastard when we first met, but why would you think I’d do anything other than that now?”

  “Because we lied about the extent of our abilities.”

  “That was pretty evident from the beginning.” There was something in his tone that suggested he remained suspicious about certain aspects of my story. But then, he was both a ranger and a werewolf. They had excellent instincts when it came to things like that. “But at least the RWA backed up your statement that neither of you are capable of protecting the wellspring. That will count in your favor.”

  “I can’t see how.”

  “Small lies are infinitely better than bigger lies.” Amusement briefly shone in his blue eyes as he added, “And I did remind the council that the best cakes and chocolate brownies anyone in this reservation has ever tasted were in danger of being evicted right alongside the pair of you.”

  “Idiot.” I nudged him with my shoulder. “Did you show the council the recording you did when we contacted Gabe, or the one from the truck last night?”

  “Yes. I think some of them struggled to believe the authenticity of the spirit talking, and last night’s tape was, as I’d feared, hampered by the fog.”

  I wasn’t surprised by the former. Even in this day and age, where spirit talking—and even spirit walking—were recognized and well-studied psychic talents, there were still plenty of people who refused to believe in the existence of such things as ghosts and spirits.

  That the fog had obscured the video footage was simply frustrating. If anything could have convinced the council of the need for witches in this reservation, it would have been a dead man with a hole in his chest, no knees, and half his head blown away trying to kill me.

  “Do you have any idea which way the decision will fall?”

  “No. They play their cards very close to their chests.”

  I blew out a frustrated breath, but it did little to ease the sick tension growing within me. “We seriously cannot afford to be run out of another town.”

  “The council would offer compensation. They’re not that cold.”

  I snorted. “The fact they’re even considering this action right before Christmas says otherwise.”

  “The report only arrived a couple of days ago. Had it arrived sooner, it would have been dealt with sooner.”

  “Does our possible eviction mean they’re going against the RWA’s recommendation to bring in a replacement for Gabe? Because they might not like the outcome if the government forces the issue.”

  “I won’t know that until tonight, either.” He paused, and then added softly, “We can still date even if you’re not on the reservation. There’s no rule against that.”

  “Except if we’re kicked out there’s no guarantee we’ll even remain in this state.” I pushed away my plate and then rose. “I think I’d better leave.”

  “Don’t.” He caught my hand. “Please.”

  I gently pulled free of his grip. “I can’t. Not until I know, one way or the other, whether I can still consider Castle Rock my home come tomorrow.”

  He swore softly and rose with me. “Right now, I fucking hate the council and their damn ruling.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “It’s a ruling you agreed with until very recently.”

  “Yes, but I was looking for someone to blame for my loss, and Gabe was the obvious and easy answer. If I can change my opinion, they certainly can.”

  “I guess we’ll find out in a couple of hours.” I walked around the table and headed for the door. “Will you ring me the minute you know? No matter what the time?”

  “Even if it’s late?”

  “Yes. It’s not like I’m going to sleep either way.”

  He didn’t reply. He keyed open the door into the main area and then led the way across the room, his movements filled with repressed frustration and anger. Once we were outside, I got my keys out of my purse and walked down to my car.

  “You’re going to have to replace the windshield. It’s not safe to drive it too far with it like—” He paused, leaned closer to the glass, and then swore. “It wasn’t a damn stone that caused that hole.”

  I frowned. “If it had been anything larger, I would have seen it.”

  His gaze came to mine, and the fury I’d sensed earlier was now full-blown.

  “What?” I said, my heart beating somewhere in my throat.

  “If I’m not mistaken, that hole was caused by a goddamn bullet.” His expression was fierce. Angry. For me, not at me. “Someone was trying to kill you.”

  Chapter Nine

  “No way,” I retorted, not attempting to control my disbelief. “And even if it is a bullet hole, wouldn’t I have been hit? Or at least have heard it hitting something inside the car?”

  He stepped around me and opened the car door. “Given the car was out of control and spinning at the time, probably not.”

  “I still don’t get why you’d think someone was trying to kill me.” I crossed my arms against the chill gathering around me
, and watched as he began checking the inside of the car. “You said yourself not so long ago that some farmers within the reservation were granted special rifle licenses to shoot vermin. Maybe that’s what they were doing, and a shot simply went astray.”

  “Where were you when the accident happened?”

  I shrugged, a movement he had no hope of seeing given he was currently inspecting the side of the driver headrest. “About halfway between Guildford and Castle Rock.”

  “So plenty of rolling hills and rocks?”

  “Yes, and if there’d been anyone close enough to shoot at me, I would have seen them.”

  “Exactly. The fact you didn’t suggests they might have been using either the rocks or trees as cover.” He glanced at me, a slight smile teasing his lips despite the sternness of his expression. “Unless, of course, the reason you didn’t see them was that in your anxiety to make our dinner date, you were dangerously over the speed limit and the landscape was little more than a blur.”

  “I like you, Aiden, but I’m not willing to risk my life for you.”

  “Your actions against that vampire say otherwise—which is something else I reminded the damn council about.” He pulled a glove out of his pocket. “You got a pen in that bag of yours?”

  I fished one out and handed it to him. “Why on earth would you carry silicone gloves and not a pen?”

  “Because I don’t write up scene reports. I record them and then download them onto my computer via an app. I will always need gloves, however.”

  He dug the pen into the side of the headrest, and after a moment, something plopped into his right hand. He grunted and held it up for me to see. It was indeed a bullet.

  I rubbed my arms, but it wasn’t doing much against the damn chill. “I really can’t believe it was deliberate. No one here has any reason to want me dead.”

  Although I guess I was helping to hunt down the soul eater and the witch responsible for his presence here. Still, it was unusual for a witch to use such a mundane means to get rid of a foe.

  “If it had been a stray shot from a farmer, they would have seen your near accident and reported it.” He pulled off his glove, enclosing the bullet within it. “I’ll need to impound your car for a day or so; we’ll have to go over it and check if there were any more shots taken. I’ll get the windshield fixed when we’re finished.”

  “Except we’ll need the thing if we get booted out tomorrow.”

  “They’ll give you time to pack everything up, Liz. As I said, they’re not heartless. However, you’ll need to be careful until we discover why someone took a potshot at you.” He slammed the door shut and plucked the keys from my hand. After taking the car keys off the main ring, he handed them back. “Let’s get you home.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were on station duty?”

  “I’m there in case something comes up. Something did.” He waved me forward and then fell into step beside me. “It might be better if you call off trying to find—”

  “No,” I said, before he could finish. “Even though I’m not convinced Larissa and her need for revenge are the reason the soul eater is here, until we find her, we simply can’t be sure. And given she’s managed to avoid all your efforts to locate her, using psychometry is our only other option if we want a fast resolution.”

  “The RWA witch will be able to do a finding spell—”

  “Yes, and if he or she gets here before I’ve arranged to meet with Meika, great. If not, then we need to make the attempt. If the current pattern holds—”

  “It will attack again tomorrow night,” he finished for me.

  “Yes.”

  The thought had horror creeping through me, and I shivered. Aiden’s arm slipped around my waist and he tucked me close to his long, warmth length. But, as nice as it was, it didn’t stop the chills.

  “I’m not meaning this as a criticism, but let’s hope the RWA witch is more knowledgeable on these types of spirits than you and Belle.”

  “That wouldn’t exactly be hard.” I hooked my fingers into the back pocket of his jeans and couldn’t help but be aware of the play of muscles under my fingertips, and just how little material now separated my hand from his rather well-formed butt.

  There was nothing like a little badly timed lust to take your mind off more serious matters, it seemed.

  We walked the rest of the way to the café in silence, reaching it without incident. I somewhat reluctantly stepped away from him and said, “I’ll undoubtedly be awake if you want to drop by for a drink later. Bad news is always better done face-to-face rather than over the phone.”

  “Being the bearer of bad news is a task I absolutely hate, so let’s hope we’ll be having a celebratory drink rather than drowning our sorrows.” He brushed his fingers down my cheek, a tender touch that had my hormones skipping about again, and then stepped back. His fingers, I noticed, were again clenched. “I’d better get back to the office. Lock the door, and keep well away from the windows.”

  “I seriously doubt anyone is going to have a go at me in the middle of—”

  “If they want you dead seriously enough, they just might. So stop arguing and just do as I ask.”

  The ranger is very worried about your safety, Belle commented. Which is rather nice, is it not?

  He’s a ranger. It’s his job to be worried about things like this. To Aiden, I added, “Just this one time, I will. But don’t expect such easy compliance on future orders.”

  Oh, this is more than professional worry. Trust me on that.

  Stop skimming his thoughts, Belle. Just leave the man alone.

  It is my duty as your familiar to look after you—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. It is a job I take very seriously.

  I mentally snorted. It has nothing to do with looking after me, and everything to do with being a stickybeak. And we both know it.

  “Oh, if there’s one thing I never expect from you,” Aiden said, amusement in his tone, “it’s certainly compliance.”

  “Good, because it’s always better going into any sort of relationship with that understanding on the table.” Of course, after tonight, it might not matter.

  His amusement faded but he didn’t say anything. I opened the door, stepped inside, and then glanced back. “Talk to you later.”

  “Indeed,” he said. “Now lock the damn door and go upstairs.”

  I did. Belle met me at the top of the steps with a very large glass of whiskey on ice. “I thought you might need this.”

  “I do. Thanks.” I downed half of it in one gulp; the fiery liquid burned all the way down my throat but didn’t immediately make me feel better. I rather suspected it would take a whole lot more than one large glass. I followed her over to the kitchenette and topped up my drink. “So what do you think?”

  “I tend to agree with you—I can’t see the witch bothering to use a gun when her magic is strong enough to control the soul sucker.”

  “I meant about the council and their upcoming decision.”

  “I have faith that common decency will prevail in our favor.” She paused, her expression distracted. “The spirits say common decency should never be relied on.”

  I snorted. “Says the crowd who never have the decency to answer a direct question.”

  “The fault is apparently yours—you never ask the right question.” Her amusement faded. “What the hell are we going to do if they throw us out?”

  I sighed and slumped back against the counter. “I really don’t know.” I drank some more whiskey, and then added, “If we’re given compensation, I guess we won’t lose money, but it really feels like we’re meant to be here. I don’t want to leave.”

  “Me neither.” She propped beside me. “We could always appeal the decision. People have.”

  “But have they ever won?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean we won’t.”

  “Appealing their decision would mean revealing a little more about ourselves than I’m comfortable with
right now.”

  “And yet you’re not comfortable with lying, either, if the unhappy vibes I was receiving earlier are anything to go by.”

  “The worst of it is, he’s well aware that I’m still not telling him the whole truth.”

  “That’s why he’s the ranger, and Zak is a bartender.” Belle pushed away from the counter and plucked the empty glass from my hand. “Look, why don’t you go grab a sleeping draught and catch up on some of the sleep you’ve missed over the last few nights. Aiden’s not likely to get here before midnight, so that at least gives you a couple of hours.”

  I hesitated, and then nodded. If my gut was right, I’d be missing more sleep tomorrow night thanks to the soul eater, so it was infinitely better to grab some sleep while I could. And it sure as hell beat hanging around for hours on end worrying about the council’s decision and what it might mean for us—especially when there was nothing either of us could really do to change it.

  I went back downstairs to make a gentle sleeping potion. Once I’d thoroughly washed out the containers and stacked them away again, I hit my bed. The good thing about sleeping potions was they also stilled your mind, giving you a dream-free sleep. Given the fact that I woke in the exact same position that I went to sleep in, I evidently didn’t even stir.

  For several minutes, I listened to the creaks and groans of the old building, finding an odd sense of comfort and peace in them. In the street outside, magpies warbled, and that had confusion stirring. Why the hell were they up and active at night?

  “Because it’s not night,” Belle said, as she came into the room. She’d obviously just woken, as her hair was messy and she was still in her nightie. “It’s seven in the goddamn morning, and your ranger didn’t drop by last night, as he promised.”

  I closed my eyes and swore softly. “It’s obviously bad news then.”

  “Probably.” Belle sat on the edge of the bed, then reached past me and pulled my phone out from its usual position under my pillow. “You need to call him, because we fucking need to know what’s going on. It’s not just us they’re affecting, but our staff as well.”