Hell's Bell

  “I will. Thanks.”

  I glanced across at Ashworth. “You’re also quite welcome to come back.”

  “Thanks, lassie, but I think I’ll just go back to the hotel and rest.”

  I nodded and left the backyard, well aware that Aiden’s gaze followed me. I jumped into his truck, adjusted the seat to enable me to reach the clutch a little easier this time, and did indeed manage to avoid grinding the gears as I reversed out and drove back to the café. Which, considering the hurt leg, was something of a miracle.

  “Hey,” Belle said, as I limped through the back entrance into the main area. “Drink this.”

  I accepted the rather large and overly green drink with something close to trepidation. It was thick and soupy looking, but didn’t quite smell like a swamp. In fact, as far as her potions went, this one definitely fell on the pleasant side of odorous.

  “Unlike you,” she said. “I suggest you head upstairs and grab a shower, because the stink of death clings and it’ll drive our customers away.”

  I gulped down the drink and then headed upstairs. After I’d showered, I rebandaged the bullet scrape and then, once dressed, headed back down to take over from Belle. Given she’d been running the place with only Penny as help for the last couple of days, she more than deserved a decent break.

  My leg was aching pretty badly by the time we were ready to close, but I took some painkillers and then basically ignored it. Mike approached me at the end of his shift, his expression one of remorse. “I heard about what happened up at the compound. I’m sorry—”

  “How did you hear about it?” I cut in. “The elders were supposed to put the story on lockdown until tonight.”

  He nodded. “Anyone outside of immediate family members wouldn’t have heard a whisper. The only reason I’m now mentioning it is because Meika wanted me to give you her apologies for Larissa’s actions.”

  “What her daughter did is hardly either of your fault.”

  “Yeah, it is, because we’re the ones who got you involved in the hunt for her.” He grimaced. “I didn’t even think she knew how to use a gun.”

  Curiosity stirred. “How would she have learned to shoot? It’s not a sport werewolves generally participate in, is it?”

  “No. If we want to hunt, we generally use nose and teeth. A rifle takes out too much of the fun.” He shrugged. “But a month or so ago she started hanging out with a couple of ratbags who belonged to the rifle range. It’s possible she went there with them.”

  “Then I’m guessing she got the rifle from them?”

  “Or she stole it from the range itself.”

  Stealing it was more than possible given what I’d seen of her, but that still didn’t explain how she’d learned to use the weapon so well in such a short time. Surely it took far longer than that to become proficient at hitting moving targets from a distance?

  So did that mean Larissa hadn’t been at the other end of the rifle, but someone else? Someone who was now letting her take the fall?

  I didn’t want you dead—I just wanted you maimed, were her exact words when we were questioning her, right along with, yes, but I wasn’t the one who…. What if that comment hadn’t been about Aron at all? What if she’d meant the attempted murder charge against me? What would she have actually said if I hadn’t cut her off?

  If that was the case, was the real shooter on the run, or was he or she still out there, waiting for the right opportunity to take another shot at me?

  Trepidation stirred, and I rubbed my arms uneasily. “I don’t suppose you know any of their names?”

  “No. But Meika might. I can ask if you’d like?”

  I waved the offer away. “I’m sure the rangers will follow it up.” And if they didn’t, I sure as hell would. “I was just asking out of curiosity.”

  He hesitated, and then said, “Do you think she’s going to be charged with Aron’s and Marlinda’s deaths?”

  “I don’t know, Mike, but she will at least be charged with shooting at me and Ranger O’Connor.”

  And even if it turned out she wasn’t the one holding the gun, but rather one of her new friends, she’d still be charged with being an accessory.

  He cursed softly and ran a hand through his short, silver-shot black hair. “Maybe some time away will do her good and set her on the right path. Maybe.”

  I reached out and squeezed his arm. His regret stirred around me—not so much about the current situation, but rather that he hadn’t been more involved in Larissa’s upbringing.

  “Do you need a couple of days off? We can call in a substitute if you want to be with your sister—”

  “No.” He grimaced. “It’s not like I can do a real lot now, is it?”

  No. And Larissa was an adult; it was way past time for her to take responsibility for her own actions.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, as usual,” he added, and then headed out.

  I locked up behind him and then made Belle a cappuccino, and a hot chocolate for myself, complete with lashings of marshmallows. And because I was feeling the need for an extra dose of sugar, I put a couple of slices of the freshly made almond butter chocolate brownies on a plate.

  Belle clattered down the stairs as I placed the tray on the table. She’d changed and showered, and was looking rather awesome in a silver dress that hugged her curves in all the right places while emphasizing her sleek, muscular body.

  I raised my eyebrows. “I take it you’re going out?”

  She slung her coat over the chair, then sat down and put on her shoes. “Zak rang me half an hour ago. He managed to get a couple of tickets for tonight’s opening of the new Phantom of the Opera down in Melbourne.”

  Which just happened to be one of Belle’s favorites. “Are you staying overnight?”

  She shook her head. “He’s got a maintenance job in the morning. Besides, it’s only an hour and a half drive.” She took a sip of the cappuccino and licked the froth from her lip. “What are you doing?”

  I shrugged. “Probably nothing. Aiden’s got the mess at Frankie’s place to deal with, Lance to talk to, and then he’ll probably want to talk to Larissa some more.”

  Belle leaned back in her chair, and tapped the table lightly. “You know, something about all this doesn’t feel right.”

  “I know.” I reached for a piece of brownie, and bit into its gooey richness. It might not help the brain matter work any better, but it sure as hell made my belly a whole lot happier.

  “If Larissa was angry enough at Garrett’s parents to call forth a soul eater from the Ouija session, why has it instead gone after everyone else at the session?”

  “It could be as simple as no one at that session having the power to control it, and it’s going after them instead of the intended targets.”

  She was shaking her head even as I answered. “If anger called it forth, then that anger should have guided its actions.”

  “So why isn’t it going after Aron’s parents?”

  “Maybe his parents were never the target. Maybe Larissa is merely the fall guy for something else entirely?”

  “If that’s the case, then maybe it revolves around Frankie and the man she was with, as they were the first to die.”

  “I doubt Frankie was anything more than a convenient soul to consume and use.”

  “Which still leaves us with Frankie’s victim.”

  “Did Larissa know him?”

  “No. She just said he wasn’t a wolf.”

  “And you believe her?”

  “Yes.” I finished the brownie and licked the chocolaty almond remnants from my fingers. “She said he looked peaceful—like he was asleep—so she obviously got a good look at his face.”

  “If he was the target, then the soul eater is free to do as it pleases.”

  “But why would it then go after Marlinda and Aron? Frankie had plenty of neighbors—it would have been far easier to go dine on them rather than taking the time to hunt down everyone else involved in calling it forth.” r />
  Belle shrugged. “Given they were using the board without any sort of protection, it would have some sense of their souls and that, in turn, would make them very easy to track down. Of course, it could also be nothing more than payback for being called into this realm.”

  Which was certainly possible. Spirits—or rather, dark spirits—were well known for turning against those who controlled them if they got the slightest chance. I stirred the half-melted marshmallows into my hot chocolate and then took a drink. “I might go across to Émigré and talk to Maelle. Larissa insinuated that Janet was a friend of Marlinda’s, so it might be worth asking if I can search her apartment again.”

  Belle raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that task be better done by Aiden?”

  “Probably, but I don’t think our resident vampire would appreciate too much contact with the rangers. Besides, I did promise to update her, and I’d hate to be breaking that promise.”

  “Good point. Especially if, as we suspect, she’s more than a little capable of magic.”

  “I’m thinking she wouldn’t need magic to take care of either of us. She’d just take a lovely long drink when we were least expecting it.”

  “True.” Belle finished her coffee, and then added, “Are you still wearing that charm I made?”

  “Are you?” I countered, even though it was obvious she wasn’t.

  “Point taken.” She grinned. “Perhaps in the next day or so, we need to combine efforts and make a deterrent that will go with all outfits.”

  “Yes.” I hesitated. “Although it might be better to wait until this case is over and Ashworth is gone. He’s suspicious enough of the two of us.”

  “He’s a chip off your grandfather’s block, though, isn’t he?”

  “Indeed.” My voice was wry. “I’m a disappointment, apparently.”

  She laughed. “Like you haven’t been told that a billion or so times in your life already.”

  “Yeah.” My smile faded. “The problem is the wild magic. It interfered in another spell at Frankie’s house, which only served to clarify his suspicions we are not what we seem.”

  “Meaning he’s likely to inquire about us?”

  “More than likely, I’d say.” I grimaced. “Of course, it may not matter in the end. Not if the council decides to uphold the witch ban and chuck us out of the reservation.”

  The sharp blast of a car horn cut off any reply she might have made. “And that will be Zak.”

  I shook my head in mock sorrow. “It’s a sad state of affairs when a date no longer comes to the front door, and simply honks on his arrival.”

  “It is indeed, and I don’t care.” She rose, gathered her coat, and then kissed my cheek. “Be careful with Maelle. I still don’t trust that woman.”

  “She doesn’t intend me any immediate harm.”

  “I like the lack of conviction behind that statement. It comforts me greatly.”

  I grinned as the car horn sounded again. “The natives are getting restless. You’d better go.”

  She headed out. I finished my hot chocolate, then cleaned everything up and headed upstairs to grab my coat and purse. I caught a cab across to Maelle’s, but had barely climbed out of the car when Roger appeared in the club’s doorway.

  “Lizzie Grace,” he said, somewhat effusively, “such a pleasure to see you on so fine an evening.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “My, we’re in a good mood today, aren’t we?”

  “Indeed.” He stepped to one side and ushered me in. “The mistress has recently fed, so all is good in our world.”

  “I’m glad.” If only because the last thing I wanted to be facing was a vampire in serious need of sustenance. Her hunger had been bad enough last time. “But if she had other feeders, why did she leave it so long to gain sustenance?”

  “Because I have my favorites,” Maelle said, as she appeared out of the shadows clustered around the dance floor. “And when one or more of them goes missing or dies, I mourn. Part of that process is not taking sustenance for a period of three days.”

  “Three days is a rather arbitrary number, isn’t it?”

  She shrugged, the movement elegant. Her outfit today rather resembled something worn by aviators in the 1920s, although the black boots were thigh-high rather than ending just below her knee. “It depends on the vampire, the depth of their loss, and the keenness of their hunger. The latter two were strong enough to allow three days, but no more. Do you wish a drink?”

  I shook my head, but nevertheless moved across to the bar and perched on one of the stools. “I wanted to ask you a few more questions about Marlinda.”

  “Indeed?” She sat beside me and arched one defined eyebrow. “Have you found her killer as yet?”

  “She was killed by the soul eater,” I said. “The question you should have asked is, who bought the soul eater to the reservation?”

  “And is that a question you can answer?”

  “Partially.” I quickly updated her on the events surrounding the Ouija board. “I was wondering if you were perhaps familiar with any of Marlinda’s friends.”

  “Some,” she said. “She was a free spirit outside the realms of this place, and I know she had a number of lovers.”

  “Did she by chance mention any of them?”

  Maelle’s smile was cool. “It is never wise to mention one lover in front of the other—especially when that lover is paying your rent.”

  A wry smile touched my lips. “Just because she didn’t mention them doesn’t mean that either you or Roger don’t know about them.”

  “You are indeed correct, Lizzie Grace. I think I should be quite grateful that the rangers are not as perceptive as you.”

  “I wouldn’t ever underestimate them, Maelle.”

  “Oh, I won’t.” She studied me for a minute, her expression suggesting she wasn’t ever about to underestimate me, either. “What are the names of the people you are now seeking?”

  “There’s only one—Janice.”

  Her lips pursed. “It is not a name I’m familiar with. Do you have a description?”

  I shook my head. “But Larissa implied Janice was one of Marlinda’s lovers—”

  “She wasn’t involved with anyone by that name,” Roger cut in. “Is it possible Larissa was mistaken?”

  “Yes.” I hesitated. “Can I go back into Marlinda’s apartment? If I do a more thorough search, I might be able to find some clue as to who Janice is, and what her relationship with Marlinda truly was.”

  “Roger can take you over there now, if you’d like. What’s being done about the soul eater?”

  “The rangers have called in an RWA witch. He dealt with the open Ouija board and the other demons that were at Frankie’s house, and he’s the one who will be dealing with the soul eater.”

  “And the person who called this thing into being?” she asked. “Or do you truly believe its presence here is nothing more than an unwise decision made by anger and alcohol?”

  There was something in her cool tone that had me frowning. “You don’t believe that?”

  The smile that once again touched her pale lips held nothing in the way of humor, and sent a chill running down my spine. “I’ve encountered these spirits before, and their existence and rampages have never been due to chance or foolishness.”

  “When you say you’ve encountered them, do you actually mean they’ve been sent against you?”

  “Oh yes, and more than once. After all, what better way is there to get rid of one demon than to set another against it?” Ice touched her eyes, and the chill running down my spine got stronger. “Unfortunately for them, I had access to sources capable of greater magic. And I did so enjoy my revenge.”

  I batted away the bloody images that rose to mind. “Vampires aren’t demons—”

  “No, but we were considered so in the past. Even in today’s enlightened age, there are many who still place us on the same level as those dark entities.” She studied me for a second. “I find it highly unlikel
y that a consumer of souls would answer the call of six drunken fools dabbling with an Ouija board. If the board is the reason for its presence here, then it’s likely that one of those who remain alive is responsible. Whether by chance or design is another matter entirely.”

  “One of them—Lance—is a werewolf.”

  “Which does not preclude the possibility of his guilt, although I grant that it is unlikely. But that only leaves you with one unknown—and the possibility that she is a witch.”

  “No witch in existence would ever use a Ouija board without some form of protection.”

  “That may be true, but the possibility that she’s either a witch or has unregistered powers remains. Your High Council might demand all half-breeds be registered, but we both know that doesn’t always happen.”

  No, it didn’t, and untrained or undiscovered talents could be extremely dangerous, especially if they only manifested with darker emotions. Like hate. Or anger.

  Larissa might have been drunk and angry, but I really did believe she wouldn’t have sent the soul eater after any of her friends.

  So was unknown Janice behind this mess? Or was there another reason for the soul eater’s presence here? Had we—had I—been misreading this whole situation from the beginning?

  Given how little I knew about dark spirits—and soul eaters in particular—that was totally possible.

  “What you need to get is a description of the woman,” Maelle said. “Several of Marlinda’s friends were frequent guests here, so it’s totally possible that this Janice was one of them. If that is the case, then we would have caught her on the security cams.”

  “When was the last time she had friends here? Before or after her disappearance?”

  “Before. There were five of them all told, and they drank up a storm.” A furrow of displeasure appeared between her brows. “I am somewhat forgiving of bad behavior from my feeders, but my patience is not endless.”

  “Feeders? Plural?”

  She nodded. “Marlinda is—was—friends with several of my other attendants. Aled and Molly were with her that night, along with two others I did not know.”

  “What sort of problems did they cause?”