Hell's Bell

  She scowled. “How the fuck do I know? It was just a pentagram.”

  “There is no such thing as just a pentagram—”

  “Why did you decide to use the Ouija board?” Aiden asked, lightly touching my arm in warning.

  I took a deep breath and tried to calm down—a hard task in the face of such stupidity.

  “We were all drinking and bitching, and I was going on about not being allowed to marry Garrett, and then Janice suggested I get a little supernatural payback.”

  “And Aron didn’t speak up against this?” Aiden said, surprise evident.

  “He did, but Janice convinced him it was just a bit of fun and no real harm would come of it.”

  “So that’s when the Ouija board came into play,” I said.

  She nodded. “None of us took it seriously, not even Janice.”

  Which was their first mistake. Not taking things seriously was a good way to piss off the good spirits and invite in the bad.

  “So what happened?”

  She hesitated. “Nothing at first. Then the planchette began to move in this weird figure-eight pattern. We kept asking questions, but it was like it wasn’t interested in helping.”

  “That’s because it wasn’t,” I said. “It was trying to control the board.”

  “What happened after that,” Aiden said, with another warning glance at me.

  I crossed my arms and returned his gaze evenly. He’d asked for my help, so he was damn well going to put up with my questions and comments as well.

  “Nothing much,” Larissa said. “Janice started accusing us of moving the planchette and trying to scare her. She demanded that we stop.”

  “And did you?”

  “Yeah. It was getting weirdly cold and dark in the room, so we just gave it up.”

  “Did you close the connection first?” I asked. “And did you wrap both the planchette and the board up in separate cloths and store them apart?”

  “I don’t fucking know. I left not long after that.”

  I swore again. “So it’s possible we’re dealing with a still-open connection.”

  “Meaning what?” Aiden asked.

  I raised my gaze to his. “If we don’t close it, a soul eater could be the least of our problems.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Aiden rubbed a hand across his chin. In the sharp silence of the hall, it sounded like rough sandpaper. “What do we need to do?”

  “Immediately find that board and close the connection down.”

  He swore and returned his gaze to Larissa. “When did all this happen?”

  “Three days before Aron was murdered.”

  “And you went into hiding two days before then,” I said. “Why?”

  “Because I got a call from Frankie saying something weird was happening in her house, that it felt as if something was there with her, trying to get her, and she was scared.” She paused, and something close to fear crept into her expression again. “She said we’d let something bad in when we were using the board, and that she needed someplace to stay while she got the place cleansed.”

  Which wouldn’t have done one bit of damn good if the Ouija doorway was still open. “And your response?”

  Larissa’s gaze came to mine. For the first time, horror rather than fear lurked in the golden depths. “I said I’d pick her up after work. I wasn’t going to lose money because she was suddenly spooked.”

  Yet more evidence that Larissa still didn’t understand the true direness of the situation she was now in. “What happened?”

  “The front door was open, so I went in.” Color leached from her face, and her voice shook as she added, “Frankie was in the lounge room with a man I didn’t know. They’d had sex—I could smell it in the air. She was sitting astride his body, but leaning over him, her mouth open and a couple of inches away from his. She looked to be drinking in this weird sort of sparkly mist that was coming out of his mouth. He was shaking, you know, like it hurt, but his eyes were closed and I’d swear he was asleep.”

  “Did you recognize the victim?”

  Larissa hesitated. “No. He wasn’t a wolf, though.”

  “Did Frankie say or do anything when you arrived?” Aiden asked. “Did she even see you?”

  “Hell, yeah.” She shuddered. “Her eyes—they were dead, you know? Not just lifeless, but colorless. Black.”

  “And that’s when you ran?” I asked.

  “Wouldn’t you? It was weird, you know? After her phone call, I wasn’t going to take a chance. And then Aron and Marlinda were also killed, and I feared it might be coming after me next.”

  “Did she run after you?”

  “Yeah, but I got outside and she didn’t follow. She stood in the doorway and screamed at me to come back. I didn’t. I just got the fuck out of there. It was pretty obvious that whatever we’d let in had taken her over.”

  Not just taken her over, but had dined on her soul and was in control of her flesh. “So why did you try to kill me?”

  “I didn’t want you dead,” she muttered sullenly. “I just wanted you maimed. I’d heard you were looking for me, and thought if you were temporarily out of action, I could get enough cash and things together, and get the fuck out of this place.”

  “That wouldn’t have stopped me from locating you.” It wouldn’t have stopped a dark spirit, either; not without some major form of magical protection, anyway.

  Surprise flickered across Larissa’s expression. “Don’t psychic talents have a range limit of effectiveness?”

  “Generally, no,” I said. “You could have been on the other side of Australia and I would still have found you.”

  If—and it was a big if—whatever personal item I’d been using to track her had a strong enough connection. But I didn’t bother adding that. I’d rather she think there would have been no escape.

  “Do you have any idea where Janice lives?” Aiden asked.

  “No, because she was Marlinda’s friend, as I said. You might find something at her place.”

  Aiden grunted and glanced at me. “How urgent is closing off that Ouija board?”

  “The longer it’s left, the greater the chance of something worse than the soul eater coming through.”

  “I didn’t think there could be anything worse.” He shuddered, and then turned around to face the elders. “With your permission, I’ll call one of my deputies to come and pick up Larissa.”

  “Will she be charged with attempted murder?”

  “Yes. I’m not sure if we can make a case of her being involved in Aron’s murder, but we’ll give it a try.”

  “What the fuck?” Larissa said. “I ain’t responsible—”

  “You had your hand on the planchette, did you not?” I cut in.

  “Yes, but I wasn’t the one who—”

  “Then you’re as responsible for this mess as everyone else.” I returned my gaze to Aiden. “Can I suggest you delay taking her down to the station for at least a few hours?”

  He frowned. “Sure, but why?”

  “With the way the gossip brigade works in town, it’ll only take a couple of minutes for the whole place to know she’s in custody,” I said. “So if the soul eater is hunting for her, it might be wise to arrange full spirit protection around the station to protect your people once she’s there.”

  “Can you do that?”

  I hesitated. “The protections would be stronger if the RWA witch applied them.”

  “I’ll contact him.” He glanced back at the elders. “Can she be held here? And without too many people being aware of the fact, just to be on the safe side?”

  “I’ll place a blanket ban on anyone speaking her name outside the compound,” Rocco said heavily. “And we’ll gag the bitch, just in case she gets it in her mind to howl for help.”

  “Are you thick or what?” she said. “I’m trying to avoid that thing’s attention, not gain it.”

  Something flashed in Rocco’s eyes, something that was wild and barely restrained
. I had to wonder if, when a deputy did arrive, there’d be anything of Larissa left to retrieve.

  “Marcus, Jonny, gag her now.” Rocco’s gaze returned to Aiden’s. “We’ll guard her until this evening, Ranger. Any longer than that, and we might just be tempted to take justice into our own hands.”

  “Understood.” He paused, and then added, “Is Lance Marin here at the compound?”

  “No, he’s working at the spa in Rayburn Springs, and shares a house with a friend there. I’ll send you his contact details.” The man who’d answered was shorter than most wolves, and rather stout in build. “Do I need to warn him he could be in danger?”

  “It couldn’t hurt,” Aiden said. “Right now, my advice for him would be to stay home and out of sight until all this is over.”

  “Will that protect him, though? It didn’t help Frankie, by the sound of it,” a woman said. Lance’s mom, I guessed, given her worried expression.

  “He should be safe enough during the day,” I said. “We can ask the RWA witch to go over and place some protections around his house for tonight.”

  “Is there anything he can do in the meantime? Just in case?”

  “He can keep the lights on, and place a mix of cumin and salt across all the doors and windows,” I said. “If he’s got any cloves in the house, tell him to stick them onto a chain and wear it until all this is over.”

  She raised her eyebrows, but didn’t express the disbelief so evident in her eyes. “I’ll tell him.”

  “Thanks.” Aiden glanced at me. “Let’s go.”

  He cupped my elbow with his oh-so warm fingers, giving me little choice but to leave with him. Once the door was shut behind us, I said, “Would Rocco really take matters into his own hands when it comes to Larissa?”

  Aiden’s smile was grim. “He’s done it before, so yes. But I suspect that in this case, he said it more to scare Larissa. She’s not directly responsible for his son’s death—Aron is as much at fault, given he was also there using the Ouija board.”

  “Surely that depends on whether Rocco believes a soul eater is responsible for these deaths, though. You said some of the elders don’t.”

  “But Rocco isn’t amongst their number.” He frowned at me. “How’s that leg feeling?”

  “How’s yours?” I retorted. “I’m not the only one she shot.”

  “No, but my wounds were healed by the two shape shifts. You don’t have that option.”

  More’s the pity. He didn’t add that, but it nevertheless seemed to hang in the air. It was yet again another reminder that I could never be anything more than a temporary passion for him.

  “I’ll make it back down to your truck, Ranger, so don’t be worrying about me.”

  “Oh, I have no doubt you can make it, but I’d prefer it if you did so without reopening the wound.” He hesitated, and then added with a slight grin, “Belle will have my hide if you’re bleeding when I drop you back at the café.”

  Amusement twitched my lips. “You’re scared of her?”

  “Hell, yeah.” His grin grew. “She’s built like a goddamn Amazon—she could probably throw me across the room without resorting to magic.”

  “She does do weights. She claims it’s so she can better protect me, but don’t believe her. She just likes the admiration all those muscles get her.”

  “With good reason. She looks amazing.” He raised an eyebrow. “And you? You’re not tempted to follow her lead?”

  “Hell, no. It’s too much like hard work. I’ll keep to yoga and going on long walks, thank you very much.”

  “That sounds like something you’d see on a dating site.”

  “And what would a werewolf be doing on a dating site?” I asked mildly. “I wouldn’t have thought finding a lover to be all that hard.”

  “It was research for a case.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  “Seriously.”

  “Believing you.”

  “I can tell.” His voice was dry. “However, given the implied urgency of the situation and the fact it’s going to take us forever to get back to the truck at this rate, do you mind greatly if I give you a hand?”

  He didn’t wait for an answer. He just scooped me up and held me close as he strode down the road at a much faster clip. I grinned and draped my arms around his neck. “I should protest that I’m not an invalid, but it feels rather nice to be held like this. And hey, who knows when I’ll get another chance to enjoy all this muscular warmth.”

  “Indeed.” His amusement faded a little. “How dangerous is it going to be to enter Kastle’s place?”

  “Very.” I wrinkled my nose. “It actually might be wise to get the RWA witch to meet us there. He’ll be more capable of handling whatever might still linger.”

  “Do you know if he’s still at the café?”

  “Hang on, and I’ll check with Belle.”

  The words had barely left my mouth when she replied, He sure as hell is. He’s been drilling me on how we got the wild magic entwined in the protection spells.

  We didn’t. Not deliberately, anyway. I suspected it was a result of me bolstering the spells so soon after the wild magic had interfered with my incantation at the cemetery—some leftover energy wisps must have been still clinging to me, and had wound up in the spell.

  I told him that. He doesn’t believe me. He says there’s intent. Anyway, you want me to send him your way?

  I gave her the address and then added, Tell him we’re dealing with an open Ouija board and the possibility of a soul eater.

  Will do. She hesitated. Be careful.

  With an official witch on the reservation, I’m not going anywhere near the place until it’s safe.

  Yeah, you say that now, but curiosity will get the better of you, I just know it. Just remember what curiosity did to the goddamn cat.

  I sent her a mental kiss, and then tuned out and glanced up at Aiden. “She’s going to ask the witch to meet us at the house.”

  “Good. I’ll ask him about protecting the station, and Lance, too.”

  Silence fell between us. I tried to ignore my growing awareness of his closeness—of the way his muscles played against my body with each and every movement, or how much better it would feel if we were both naked—and kept my gaze firmly locked on the path ahead. To do anything else might be ultimately dangerous to our need to get to Kastle’s house in a timely manner, especially if he was as affected by our closeness anywhere near as badly as me.

  It didn’t take too long to reach his truck. He placed me back down, one hand lingering on my spine as he opened the door with the other. Once we were both seated, he reversed out and drove carefully back down the track and out of the reservation. He didn’t look at me until we were back on the main road to Castle Rock. Fifteen minutes might have passed, but the heat of desire still glowed in his eyes.

  “We seriously have to make a concerted effort to find some time alone,” he said. “Because I’m not sure I can take this frustration much longer.”

  I laughed, even though I very much agreed. “I’m sure you can take matters into your own hands if necessary.” I hesitated, but couldn’t help adding, “Why has it been over a year, Aiden? I know you were mourning your sister’s death, but cutting out sex seems an odd way of doing it.”

  “I think we were all so intent on making her last few weeks happy that we forgot about ourselves.” He shrugged. “After she died, I was too consumed by the need for justice and revenge to think about a relationship.”

  “You don’t have to have a relationship to have sex.”

  “No, but you do at least have to be attracted to the person you’re planning to bed. Until now—until you—I just haven’t been.”

  “Which is probably the nicest thing any man has ever said to me.”

  “That is a rather sad statement.”

  “Indeed.”

  Silence fell again, and though there was an edge of awareness running through it, it was still very much an easy silence—one that coul
d only happen when two people had grown comfortable in each other’s company.

  It didn’t take us long to get to Castle Rock. Aiden drove past the town center and then turned right onto Myring Street. After a few more turns, we were stopping outside a somewhat run-down, single-fronted, green weatherboard cottage. Aiden pulled up beside the Ford Ranger truck that was parked in front of the moss-covered garden wall, and then climbed out. I did the same.

  As the sound of the two doors slamming echoed across the odd silence, a somewhat stout figure appeared from the rear of the house and strode toward us. If anyone had ever looked less like a powerful witch, then it was this man. He was wearing a Carlton football jumper, jeans with frayed knees, and sneakers so old a sock-covered toe stuck out of the left one. He was bald, his face well tanned and full of wrinkles, and his eyes were muddy silver in color. Despite that, the power that rolled off him—even from this distance—damn near stole my breath.

  “Ira Ashworth, at your service,” he said, as he drew close enough to offer Aiden his hand. “You’ve got quite a mess to clean up, Ranger.”

  “You’ve been inside?”

  “Far enough to know what we’re dealing with and to smell the stink of rotting flesh. If you’ve face masks in your kit, we’ll need to borrow them.” Ashworth’s gaze switched to mine. “And you’d be Lizzie Grace. Not what I expected, and quite disappointing, I have to say.”

  That’s a statement I’d heard plenty of times during the first sixteen years of my life, but it was rather surprising to hear it coming from the mouth of a complete stranger. “What were you expecting?”

  “Certainly not someone who bears Marlowe looks but none of their power. You’re a conundrum, lassie.”

  He held out his hand, and after a brief hesitation, I shook it. His magic swirled around me, testing, probing. The smaller of the two charms I was wearing flared to life in response, and that, I suspected, was exactly what he wanted. After a moment, he grunted and released me.

  “A puzzle indeed,” he muttered. His gaze returned to Aiden as he came back with three masks. “There’s a darkness haunting the inside of that house, so you’ll have to stay out here in the sunshine until we give the all clear.”