Broken Bonds by Keri Arthur
Chapter Twelve
Icurled my fingers against the instinctive surge of energy and turned around. Neither she nor her magic could reach me in this place; it had withstood the assaults of two of the strongest witches in Canberra. No matter how powerful she was, she wouldn’t succeed where my father and Clayton had failed.
With the bright flow of the spell threads that were protecting the café standing between the spirit and me, I calmly scanned the shadow-infested street.
While I didn’t immediately see her, the caress of darkness seemed to be coming from the small lane on the other side of the road. I studied the old two-story building directly opposite; it was currently empty and up for sale, but there was no indication anyone or anything had breached its boundaries, either physically or magically. A quick check on the funeral director’s that lay on the other side of the small lane came up with the exact same result.
Which meant she was somewhere in the lane itself, out of immediate sight.
There was no way known I was going to step out and hunt her down, however. Monty might be right about that streak of recklessness, but the streak of self-preservation was definitely stronger right now.
“I know you’re out there.” I only raised my voice a fraction. The evening was quiet, and I had no doubt she’d hear me. “What do you want?”
For several seconds, there was no response. Then a cool whispery voice said, “Freedom.”
I narrowed my gaze and stared at the darkness gathering in the lane. After a moment, I spotted a brief flicker of magic. It was the tail end of a rather powerful concealment spell. Part of me couldn’t help but wonder if that flicker had been deliberate.
“From what? The witch who leashes you?”
“Yes.”
“And you want my help?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you try to kill me?”
“Thought you her.”
Meaning my instincts had been spot-on. “So, this witch who looks like me—she’s in the reservation?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Cannot say. Leash prevents.”
The reply was accompanied by a fierce wave of anger at the lack of free will and her inability to refuse the kill order.
To be honest, there was a part of me that could totally sympathize with that anger, especially given my own history when it came to free will. But that was a very dangerous voice to listen to in a situation like this.
“And you wish to be free of this leash?”
“Yes. Hates being forced.”
Killing on her own terms was obviously okay. But then, she was a dark spirit—that’s what they did. “I was under the impression that dark spirits such as yourself were attracted to curses and summonings that involved those who stray. Why is this any different?”
“This more. This never ends.”
I frowned. “How long have you been leashed?”
“Months.”
Which meant the witch had been using the hone-onna to kill cheaters well before they’d ever ventured into this reservation. It also meant she was definitely using blood to strengthen her magic—there was no other way she could keep the leash strong enough to contain the hone-onna over such a long period of time.
And all that, by necessity, meant her altar had to be located within the reservation but away from the compounds—wolves could catch the scent of blood from miles away.
“If we hunt this witch down and destroy your leash, what guarantee do we have that you won’t remain in this place and keep killing?”
“Not comfortable here. Too open.”
“Which doesn’t answer the question.”
“Would trust if did?”
To be honest, no, but it was at least worth a shot. “We will kill you if you don’t leave.”
“A challenge? Like. But death? Not ready for final darkness yet.”
Which wasn’t an agreement to leave, but might be as close as we got. “Do you know where the witch keeps her circle?”
“In hills.”
“Which hills? There’re a hell of a lot of them in this place.”
“Near hot springs. More cannot say. Leash prevents.”
The witch had certainly woven a whole network of rules and compliances into her spell. But again, I guess that wasn’t surprising, given what she was attempting to control long-term. “Do you intend to kill her if we do manage to remove the leash?”
“If lives past removal, yes.”
Did that mean the leash was somehow tied to the witch’s life force? I knew it was theoretically possible, but I hadn’t ever heard of anyone actually doing it—especially when they were also using blood magic.
Monty’s looped around and is now standing at the other end of the lane came Belle’s thought. How do you want to play this?
I don’t think we should be playing it any way. I think we should just let her be and concentrate on the witch who holds the leash. Otherwise, these killings won’t stop.
At the very least, we need to be able to track her. If we can’t stop her until we find the witch, then we can at least prevent her kills.
Nice theory. Not sure it’ll work.
“Know other witch close,” the hone-onna said. “Attack me, will respond.”
“If you want our help,” I said bluntly, “we need to stop the killings.”
“Cannot. Not in control.”
“You control the way in which you kill, do you not?”
“Sometimes. Witch intervenes.”
“When it’s a woman?” I guessed.
“Yes.”
That would definitely explain why Ms. Taylor had been utterly torn apart but the men had not. “Why does your witch want the women treated differently?”
“Once betrayed.”
Which at least confirmed what we’d been presuming. “Here?”
“No. Another reservation.”
“Meaning she was betrayed by a wolf?”
“Yes.”
My confusion deepened. “Then why come here? Especially when none of those killed were werewolves?”
“First was.”
Meaning there was another kill out there? One we hadn’t found? Crap. “Where did that happen?”
“Won’t find. Destroyed.”
Obviously not by a spell bomb, then, because someone would surely have reported the explosion to the rangers. But if her very first victim had been a werewolf, why had no one been reported missing? Given pack mentality, that was definitely unusual.
“Look, we need to stop the killing. If we place a tracker on you and follow your movements, we can protect your targets.”
“No track. Won’t allow.”
She wouldn’t? Or the witch wouldn’t? I suspected the answer was a bit of both. This spirit may hate being leashed and controlled, but shewasn’t against the actual killing.
“Then I cannot help you.”
As I stepped back and started to close the door, she said, “Use bone. Will lower magic when sent on hunt. You read.”
I hesitated. Psychically connecting with a dark spirit would undoubtedly hold more than a handful of dangers … but if I was inside the reading room whenever I made the attempt, those dangers would at least be muted. It also meant I pretty much had to keep the damn bone on me twenty-four seven so I could be ready to track her movement at short notice.
“Won’t the connection between you and it fade over time?”
“Not human. Spirit. Won’t.”
“Will it help me track the witch?”
“No. I go now.”
And with that, she disappeared. Totally and utterly. There wasn’t even a hint or surge of magic.
Well, fuck, Belle said. If she can do that, she’s far stronger than we’ve been presuming.
I reached into my coat pocket, drew out the tissue-wrapped bit of bone, and unwrapped it. It felt warm and oddly heavy against my palm, but I wasn’t getting any distinct images from it this time. I wasn’t even getting anything to suggest I’d be able to track her. It wasn’t dead; it was just inert.
I wrapped it up again. Is Monty coming back here or continuing home?
Home. The rump roast is just about ready to serve.
A roast? You’re spoiling him.
Amusement rippled down the mental line. No, just ensuring he has plenty of red meat to keep his strength up.
Oh, I don’t think there’s any danger of his libido faltering anytime soon.
Probably not, but it never hurts to be safe. Go rest. You need it.
I will. I closed and locked the front door. It’s probably pointless coming in too early tomorrow now. It appears we’re not going to be able to track the hone-onna until she actually wishes it.
Cool, she said, and mentally signed off.
I blew out a breath and then headed into the kitchen to grab something out of the fridge for dinner. There was nothing that really excited my taste buds, so I grabbed a bit of scotch fillet steak to cook and then slapped it onto a bit of well-buttered toast, poured on some tomato sauce, and put another slice of toast on top. Heaven on a stick … or in this case, in between bread.
Once I’d made a coffee to go with it, I headed toward the stairs. But as I passed the reading room, instinct stirred. If I could locate the hone-onna through the bit of bone, then it was more than possible she could use it to track me. And, in fact, probably had, given her well-timed appearance just as I was entering the café.
If she could do that, it was possible the witch who held her leash might also be able to. While I had no idea how closely she was paying attention to the hone-onna’s movements, I really didn’t want the bitch tracking me down here. Though, in truth, it might be all too late to be worrying about that.
Even so, I headed into the reading room. After placing a minor alarm spell around the bone sliver so I’d know if it activated, I tucked it safely in one of the storage boxes hidden behind the bookcase. Then I went upstairs to eat and watch some mindless TV before heading to bed.
But once again, I dreamed of that blonde-haired little girl with eyes the same glorious color as Aiden’s. Her presence was so damn real, so damn close, that it felt like I could reach out and touch her.
It seemed my dreams were really determined to mess with my head.
The first thing I did the following morning was go into the reading room to check on the bone sliver. It remained warm to the touch, but I wasn’t getting anything in the way of location or images. I hesitated, and then tucked it back into the box. While the hone-onna had suggested keeping it on me, she was a dark spirit and I wasn’t about to fully trust her, even if instinct was suggesting that she wasn’t intent on killing me.
At least not yet.
We opened the café at eight and had a fairly steady flow of customers throughout the morning, which made a nice change after the last few days. I continued to check the bone throughout the day, just in case the alarm spell wasn’t working, but the stupid thing remained inert.
At least it did right up until closing time.
The images that hit the minute the fragment touched my skin were so fast and furious I simply let them reel through my mind and hoped like hell that I could remember them all later. A circle. A stone altar. Several large hares slaughtered by a knife that gleamed with a silvery-blue fire. Blood dripping onto a heavily stained altar, energizing the words of a spell that sang through the air and vibrated with power.
It was a call to action. A call to kill. And the hone-onna was already responding, even if against her will.
But the flow of images hadn’t finished with me yet, and what I saw next chilled me to the core.
A woman with a slender build, dark hair, and green eyes. A woman who was very heavily pregnant.
The witch was upping the ante.
The images pulled away from the woman, revealing the house in which she lived, then the number, and then finally the street.
Monty’s two minutes awaycame Belle’s comment. You have time to get there.
That’s debatable, given Woodbury is twenty minutes out of Castle Rock. I picked up our backpack and added extra charms, potions, and holy water. I had no idea if any of them would deter so strong a spirit, but if our magic failed, they were better than nothing.
It will depend on how fast she moves and whether she’s in the Woodbury area, Belle said. But from the rush of anger in those images, I can’t see her hurrying.
She may not have a choice when it comes to timing. The witch seemed pretty determined the kill happen this afternoon.
Which means the witch must be scouting the locations before she sends her creature in, Belle said. How else would she know all that detail?
She must also be using some form of spell to hunt transgressors down. She couldn’t possibly find these people any other way.
Well, PIs are well experienced in this sort of thing, but it wouldn’t make sense for her to be employing one.
Not when she’s killing the victims once she uncovers them.I slung the pack over my shoulder and strode out of the reading room. “Can you ring Tala and tell her what’s going on? Warn her not to come near the place until we give the all clear.”
“Will do.” She hesitated. “Be careful, won’t you?”
“She wants my help, Belle. She won’t hurt me.”
“Yeah, but I’m betting the witch who holds her leash won’t feel the same.”
“Probably not.” I unlocked and opened the door. “When you’re on the line to Tala, could you also ask her to give us a list of all the mineral springs in the area?”
“I’m thinking there will be more than a few of those, given that’s what this area is famous for.”
“Undoubtedly, but we can discount any that are near the compounds. This witch has had her altar set up for some time, so it’s obviously in a fairly remote location.”
Otherwise, the wolves would definitely have caught its scent. There was too much old blood staining the stone for the smell not to be obvious.
“Will do.”
Aiden’s truck came skidding around the corner, the lights and siren on. A smile tugged at my lips. “I think your boyfriend might be living out his childhood dreams right now.”
“There’s no might about it.” Amusement flowed through the mental lines. “Don’t let him hurt himself. You know how he gets.”
“He has every intention of marrying you. He’s not going to do anything daft, trust me on that.”
She snorted and pushed me out the door. “Go. If you need anything, I’m here.”
The truck slid to a stop, but Monty didn’t lean across to open the door as Aiden usually did. But then, I was family, not the woman he wanted to marry. I jumped in, threw the pack into the footwell, and then clipped on the seat belt.
He immediately took off. “I did a search on the address. The owner is a Mrs. Joanna Rankin.”
He raised his voice to be sure I heard him over the screaming siren, but it wasn’t really necessary. Not these days.
“She’s married? That surprises me.”
“Why? Women might not cheat as often as men, but it does happen.”
“I know, but she’s pregnant—”
“Belle didn’t mention that,” he cut in brusquely.
“Because it doesn’t make a difference in the scheme of things.”
“I know, but still—” He stopped, took a deep breath, and then released it slowly, as if to counter his anger. “How far away is the hone-onna from her target?”
I fished the tissue-wrapped bit of bone out of my pocket. Again the images hit, but this time they were little more than a blur. She was moving at speed through a forest, but more than that, I really couldn’t say. Mostly, I suspected, because the sheer weight of her anger was blocking the signal.
She might be a dark spirit, she might be a creature who killed, but she nevertheless had her boundaries—a point she would not go past.
Children, be they born or not, were her line in the sand.
“Lizzie?” Monty said, voice soft but wary.
I jumped and blinked. “Sorry. Just trying to sort through the images.”
“Anything useful.”
“She’s moving fast but not as fast as she did last night. She’s attempting to give us time to get there.”
“Because of the half-baked agreement she made with us?”
“Because she doesn’t want to murder an unborn child.”
He swore. Several times. “We really have to stop this bitch.”
The bitch he was talking about this time was the witch, not the hone-onna. “Yes. But the reservation is a big place, and she’s had more than enough time to set up her defenses.”
“You can’t set the wild magic on an investigative hunt? That’d surely be the easiest way to at least find her altar, and it’s something she wouldn’t be expecting or guarded against.”
I hesitated. I hadn’t actually thought of doing that, and it might be worthwhile trying. And yet, at the same time, it was also dangerous. “The last thing we need is this witch thinking the wild magic is, in any way, controllable.”
Especially when we had a second wellspring that no one as yet knew about.
“Even a witch powerful enough to control a dark spirit over the length of time this one apparently has isn’t getting through the protections that now ring the wellspring.”
It wasn’t the main wellspring that I was worried about. While Katie and the soul of her witch husband did protect the second wellspring, neither had been tested yet. Not in any way. I really wanted to keep it that way.
“One thread,” Monty said. “That’s not dangerous, and it’s unlikely to catch the witch’s attention.”
“I can try.” Albeit reluctantly.
But he was right—it would be the quickest and easiest way to find the witch. Even if Tala came through with a small list of mineral springs, it would still take more hours than we could afford to check all of them.
The truck skidded right onto the highway that would lead us down to Woodbury. I wrapped my hand around the grab handle so tightly that my knuckles were white but, in truth, Monty was an excellent driver, even if he wasn’t overly familiar with the truck.
I regularly checked the bone, especially once we drew close to the woman’s address. The hone-onna was now following the winding path of a tree-shrouded river, giving us time but drawing inexorably closer.
We were cutting it fine. Real fine.
The victim’s house lay in a street close to the football field, which itself was too damn close to the river the hone-onna followed.
Monty swung left, the tires screaming and the big truck wobbling unsettlingly before he got it back under control and then sped on. There was a T-intersection up ahead, but he didn’t slow. He just did another of those unsettling turns onto a rough old dirt road. Dust and dirt plumed behind us as we sped on.
The bone’s pulsing increased. “She’s close, Monty.”
“How close?”
“Like, if I looked out the window, I might see the whites of her eyes close.”
He didn’t look up at the rearview mirror, and I certainly didn’t want to.
“Then get a protection spell ready now, because I may not have time to construct one before she hits. Just make sure you weave in an exception for my magic this time, otherwise I won’t be able to respond.”
I nodded and started weaving a heavy-duty protection spell. By necessity that meant weaving in threads of personal wild magic, but I resisted the impulse to reach for the real stuff. If the witch connected to her creature in order to watch the kill—and I rather suspected she would, given her anger focused more on the women involved in the extramarital activities than the men—she’d see the threads of my inner wild magic. I just had to hope they were different enough from the reservation’s that she wouldn’t connect the two.
Monty hauled the truck right onto a stone driveway then accelerated toward the white weatherboard house perched on stumps tall enough to allow a car to park underneath.
He stopped in front of the stairs, threw the truck into park, and then scrambled out without bothering to turn it off. I grabbed my pack and followed, bounding up the steps two at a time after him. He didn’t knock on the front door or announce his presence in a calm manner; he just blasted it open with magic and yelled, “Mrs. Rankin, are you in the house? I’m Monty Ashworth, the reservation’s witch. I believe your life is in danger, and we need you to leave with us immediately.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” came the startled comment from the far end of the house. “Get out of my house before I call the rangers.”
“The rangers are already on the way, Mrs. Rankin.”
As he ran down the hall, the bone in my left hand pulsed, and images rose. We were out of time. The hone-onna was on the dirt road and only seconds away.
“Monty, get her in here now! I can’t protect the whole house.”
There was a squawk, a stream of curses, then the sharp rap of dual footsteps coming back down the hallway. As Monty appeared, dragging the heavily pregnant woman behind him, I unleashed my spell. It rolled swiftly through the room, covering not only all the doors and windows but also the floor and the ceiling in a net of pulsing power. I immediately activated it, then swung the pack around and pulled out the salt and holy water. I tossed the former to Monty, then slammed and locked the front door and popped the cork on the first bottle of holy water. Once I’d poured half of it in an unbroken line across the threshold, I raced over to the nearby window to repeat the process.
The hone-onna hit before I could get there. The sheer force of her attack sent me staggering sideways, but I somehow remained upright and pushed more energy into the netting. Another magical blow. A gasp escaped, and I dropped to my knees even as Monty’s energy surged.
The threads of his spell flew over my head and pierced my protective netting. The hone-onna screamed, and her magic surged anew, the spell one I didn’t immediately recognize. It hit Monty’s caging spell, and the two exploded. As the broken threads of magic drifted past the window, he swore and quickly weaved a repelling spell—one so powerful it lit up the room.
The hone-onna continued to hit my protection net. Each blow hit like an invisible fist, making my body quiver and jerk. My net pulsed rapidly in response, but it held, even if the ache in my brain was getting steadily worse.
I ignored it all the best I could and, through slightly narrowed eyes, watched and repeated the spell Monty was creating. My version, however, was reinforced by my inner wild magic. It was a beast of a thing, and if it actually hit, it would fling her right across the reservation.
But that’s exactly what we needed if we were to have any chance of getting Mrs. Rankin to safety.
Monty cast his spell. As it pierced my netting and speared toward the hone-onna, I cast my duplicate, keeping it close to the tail of Monty’s in the vague hope she wouldn’t immediately notice it.
The hone-onna screamed and flung another counterspell. Once again, the two spells hit and then exploded, the blowback strong enough that the little ornaments on the nearby shelving unit shook. But the debris of those two spells hid mine, and it sped on through and hit the hone-onna square in the chest. For a second, nothing happened, but just as I started wondering if I’d done something wrong in the construction of it, there was small whoomph, and the hone-onna started screaming. It was a sound that became ever more distant. Despite those screams, despite the fury so evident in them, there was an odd wash of … not really relief, but perhaps satisfaction … coming from the bone fragment. A response from the hone-onna rather than the witch who controlled her, I suspected.
Monty sucked in a breath then ran over to me. “You okay?”
I nodded and clasped the hand he offered me, letting him help me up. “The force of her attack just caught me by surprise.”
“Speaking of surprise,” Mrs. Rankin said, “someone care to tell me what the fuck is going on? What was that thing outside? It sounded like a wild boar.”
“Oh, it’s far worse than a wild boar, and it will be back.” Monty’s voice was grim. “Do you want to pack a bag with enough clothes to last a few days? We need to get you out of here.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you fucking two until you tell who you are and what is going on.”
“Mrs. Rankin,” I said, rather impatiently. “You’re in danger. There’s a witch out there in the reservation currently hunting down and killing everyone who’s had an extramarital affair. You’re on her list, and that means you either leave with us now or you stay here and wait for that fucking creature to come back and kill you.”
Her face paled. “But I haven’t—”
“Don’t bother with denial, because it won’t wash,” Monty said. “We believe she’s using a spell of some kind to track everyone who has strayed.”
The woman swallowed. “But it happened nearly two years ago! My husband and I have reconciled—”
“The witch apparently doesn’t care about small details like that.” I cocked my head for a second, listening. “The rangers are almost here. I’ll go out and meet them.”
“I thought you told them not to come in until we contacted them?” Monty said.
Belle mentally cleared her throat. I rang and gave them the all clear. Saves time.
I repeated that to Monty, then dismantled my protection net. The hone-onna had been tossed far enough away not to worry about now, and the—admittedly vague—input I was still receiving through the bone fragment suggested the witch wasn’t close. Which in some ways surprised me. Given the serious hate-on she had for her female victims, I would have thought she’d want to witness the destruction firsthand rather than through the lens of her creature.
We are dealing with a witch both canny and strong enough to summon and control a dark spirit, Belle said. She’d be aware of our presence in the reservation and wouldn’t want to put herself in a situation where we could sense her.
“So you really are connected to the rangers?” Mrs. Rankin was saying, her gaze moving between us.
“Yes,” Monty said, with just a touch of impatience. “Now please, go get a bag ready.”
She hesitated and then obeyed. Monty followed me out onto the front veranda. “Where are we going to stash her? Ashworth’s?”
“He hasn’t got any spare beds left, and given she looked ready to pop, a sofa isn’t going to be optimal.”
“We both know Aiden would give up his bed for her. Hell, Ashworth and Eli probably would, too.”
“I know, it’s just—” I paused and shrugged. “Holding too many eggs in one basket might just be a little too tempting for our witch.”
“Then she has to stay at either your place or mine.”
“The café is probably the better option. I can’t imagine you or Belle wanting an intruder right now.”
“We’re not rabbits,” he said, amused. “We can skip a night or two.”
Speak for yourselfcame Belle’s droll comment.
He laughed, so she’d obviously broadcast that wide. Which meant—given we were a fair way out of Castle Rock—her telepathic range was increasing when it came to reaching the minds of other people.
It could be another consequence of us using that restrictor spell and merging to battle the Empusa, she said. If it is, it’s one I’m not going to grumble about.
No, if only because it’d make things a whole lot easier when it came to making emergency contact with Monty or the rangers.
The siren drew closer. I ran down the steps and over to the gate. A ranger SUV appeared around the corner, spraying dust and stones behind them in much the same manner we had not too long ago. I stepped out, waved them down, and then waited near the fence.
The SUV pulled to a halt, and Tala climbed out. Her gaze swept me, and relief crossed her expression. “Good to see you’re all in one piece. Did the spirit attack?”
“Yes, but she was too powerful to kill. We resorted to tossing her to the other side of the reservation.”
Tala laughed. “That’ll work. At least for a little while, anyway.”
I nodded. “We’re going to place Mrs. Rankin into protective custody at the café. She should be safe enough there until we catch the witch behind this thing.”
“What about her husband?”
“Unless he’s strayed—and from what Mrs. Rankin has said, he didn’t—he should be safe from retribution.”
“Even so, we’ll go grab him and shove him somewhere safe.”
“We do need to keep the two separate, just in case the witch decides in the heat of the moment she has something against spouses that forgive.” I turned and led the way toward the house. Tala fell in step beside me. “Did you manage to get a list of mineral springs for us?”
She tugged a folded bit of paper from her back pocket and handed it to me. “I pulled it from the Central Vic Mineral Springs GMA plan. Best I could do at short notice.”
“GMA?”
“Sorry, groundwater management area.”
“Ah. Thanks.”
I unfolded it. It was a map of the entire reservation and detailed not only mineral springs, but also waterways and lakes. It didn’t give precise locations, but I could probably use the wild magic for that once we were closer. The majority of the springs ringed Argyle and Rayburn Springs, which was unsurprising, but there was a smaller cluster between Woodbury and Campbell’s Creek, and another up near the Marin compound in Maldoon.
“Any good?” she asked.
“Yes. It cuts down the search area, and that’s the main thing right now.” I folded the map back up. “Have there been any reports of missing wolves in the last week or so?”
She frowned. “No, why?”
“I was told that the very first victim was actually a werewolf. Apparently, his body was destroyed.”
“Where? And who told you this?”
“She wouldn’t say where—she being the hone-onna.”
Incredulousness crossed Tala’s expression. “You were speaking to her? And didn’t kill her?”
“Trust me, if I could have, I would have.”
Tala grunted, her expression a mix of disbelief and frustration. “And you trust she’s telling the truth?”
“I do.”
“Then we’ll investigate.”
Mrs. Rankin stepped out onto the porch, tugging a suitcase behind her. Monty locked the front door, then took the case and one-handedly helped her down the stairs.
“I’d better go talk to her,” Tala said, and immediately jogged over.
Monty threw the suitcase in the back of the truck, then walked over to me.
I handed him the map. “I can send the wild magic into the Argyle area to check out the situation there—it’ll be quicker, given how many springs are clustered around that area. But we should be able to do the rest.”
He nodded and glanced at his watch. “By the time we get her back to the café and settled in, it’ll probably be getting too late. The springs near Maldoon are probably the closest to Castle Rock, but it’ll take twenty minutes to get there. There’s too many old mines in that area to be clambering around in the dark.”
“There are too many to be clambering around in daytime, too.” The damn things were often difficult to see, especially if they were shafts that went straight down, rather than tunnels that ran diagonally into the hills.
He smiled. “This is why we take a ranger with us. They can lead the way and fall in first.”
“I heard that,” Tala said. “And if I fall in, I’m not going alone.”
Monty laughed. “Wise move, actually. I can cast a spell and magic us out of there.”
“Good to know. What time do you want to meet tomorrow morning?”
I glanced at Monty. He was technically my boss, after all.
“About seven? If we meet at the café, Liz can make us all a coffee to take on the road.”
“Oh, can she now?” I said mildly.
“Yes, indeed, and being the kind, generous soul you are, you’d probably include a cheese and ham toastie. Or at least cake.”
I snorted and shoved him toward the car. “Let’s get going before you fall too far into that fantasy world of yours.”
He laughed. I nodded at Tala as she went back to her SUV, and then followed Monty. We were back on the road minutes later, with Mrs. Rankin an unhappy presence in the back seat. She didn’t say anything until we pulled into the parking area behind the café.
“I’m staying here?” Her voice was incredulous. “In a damn café?”
“There’s sleeping accommodation on the first floor,” I said as Monty stopped the truck, then jumped out and moved around to the rear. “This is the safest place for you to be if the dark spirit comes after you again. It’s absolutely smothered with magical protections.”
“Dark spirit?” she said. “I thought it was a witch?”
“It’s both.” I opened her door and helped her out of the truck. “Long story, but basically you’re toast if either of them get to you.”
Her face went pale again. “And is that likely? Will the protections here hold up?”
“Yes, they will. You can’t leave the place, though, until we give you the all clear.”
“That’s going to be mighty inconvenient if I suddenly go into labor.”
I blinked. “And is that likely to happen?”
“I’m due tomorrow.”
Anger surged—not at her, but rather the situation she’d unwittingly found herself in—and I had to wriggle my fingers to release the sparks that burned at my fingertips. But I was having a hard time accepting that a damn dark spirit had more compassion and humanity than the witch who held her leash.
“Then let’s hope your kid is in no hurry to greet the world,” I said. “But just in case, I’ll ask Tala to arrange for your doctor to be on standby.”
“My sister is a certified midwife,” she replied. “We’d planned for her to deliver the baby anyway, so it’s probably best if she comes here, if that’s at all possible. I would feel safer if she was with me.”
So would I. I had absolutely no experience with babies, let alone the whole birthing thing. “As long as she doesn’t mind a fold-down bed.”
Mrs. Rankin smiled. “We’ve both slept in far worse in years past.”
I unlocked the door, motioned them both inside, and then followed and turned on the lights so they didn’t run into anything in the narrow hallway. “Ring her once we get upstairs, then, and we’ll set things up.”
“I will. Thank you.”
Monty led the way, her suitcase in one hand as he climbed the stairs. Mrs. Rankin followed more slowly, gripping the handrail to both steady and haul herself up. That she struggled was no surprise, given she was due tomorrow. I quickly dumped the backpack in the reading room and then followed, ready to give a gentle push if she faltered. She made it up the stairs a little out of breath but otherwise okay.
“Belle’s room?” Monty asked, with a quick glance over his shoulder.
“Yep. The sheets have been changed, so it’s all good.”
Monty dropped the suitcase in Belle’s bedroom, then stood aside as Mrs. Rankin waddled in. “Do you mind if I lie down for a while? It’s a bit stressful.”
“Sure,” I said. “But ring your sister first, just in case.”
She nodded and tugged her phone out of her pocket.
Monty glanced at me. “Will you be okay here alone?”
I half smiled. “Of course I will. Nothing is getting into this place unannounced. Not even a gnat.”
“I know, it’s just—” He hesitated. “I’ve got this feeling that now we’ve proven able to counter her creature—”
“Counter, not kill,” I cut in. “Big difference.”
“In the long run, I doubt it’ll matter, especially when neither of them got the satisfaction of a kill this time.”
“The hone-onna didn’t want this kill.”
He raised an eyebrow. “She’s a dark spirit. They always want the kill.”
“Not kids—not even unborn ones.” I waved a hand. “Sorry, please do go on.”
Amusement lurked in his silver eyes at the mock formality in my tone. “I think she’ll intensify her efforts to kill everyone remaining on her list. Even if the hone-onna does continue to send us information, we can’t protect or reach everyone.”
“Perhaps, but the witch isn’t going to be doing anything for the next twelve hours or so, at least.” I might not know much about blood magic, but I had no doubt it, like most major spells, would take a serious toll on the practitioner’s body. “It’ll take time for her to recover from this casting.”
“In normal circumstances yes. This witch isn’t normal—I think that is becoming ever clearer.”
He headed down the stairs. I followed him. “The thing is, there’s nothing we can actually do about that until we find her altar.”
“I know. I just wish there was some way we could alert possible victims.”
“What, send out a reservation-wide warning?” I laughed at the thought. “Even if everyone did hear it, how many would actually admit to having an affair?”
“Well, none, but doing nothing is damnably frustrating.”
“Then imagine how our head ranger is feeling.”
He snorted. “Aiden is getting some much-needed thinking time. Let’s hope he’s using it wisely.”
“He undoubtedly is, but there’s absolutely no guarantee his decision will fall in my favor.”
“He’s a fucking fool if it doesn’t.”
I unlocked the back door and then gave him a quick, fierce hug. “Thank you. I appreciate the support.”
And would no doubt need it, whether it be sooner or later.
“You’re my favorite cousin,” he said, voice a little gruff. “I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“Hurt is a fact of life, and in this particular situation, it’s inescapable. And I knew that going in.”
“Nothing is ever inescapable, Liz. He has the choice. It’s just a matter of whether he has the balls.”
I smiled. “He’s an alpha wolf. He can’t change that. Not for me, not for anyone.”
He grunted—a clear sound of disagreement—then kissed my cheek and left. I relocked the door, then headed back upstairs to make both Mrs. Rankin and myself a hot drink.
Her sister—Beverly—appeared two hours later. Once we’d all eaten—takeout, because I had no desire to cook this evening—I made up the fold-out sofa bed, then left them to it and headed downstairs. After making myself a big pot of tea, I reached out to the thread of wild magic that slowly circled the room. It responded instantly, pulsing with awareness and life as it wrapped gently around my wrist. It was from Katie’s wellspring this time, not the larger one. I reached out, and she answered immediately.
Lizzie?Surprise echoed in her mental tone. Is there a problem? Aside from the dark spirit that is currently on the rampage, that is.
You could say so. Have you, through your threads, sighted any unusual activity in the Argyle or Rayburn Springs area?
Define unusual.
I couldn’t help smiling. She very much sounded like Aiden at that moment, and pain stabbed through me. It wasn’t until now that I realized he hadn’t tried to contact me, not even to berate me for not letting him know how the bone reading went. Maybe he was still angry with me for dumping him at Ashworth’s. And maybe, as Monty had said, he was using the time to contemplate what he wanted from our relationship.
Ifhe wanted anything from it, that is.
We’ve a dark witch in the reservation—
Is she the reason the hone-onna is here?
Yes,I said, and we believe she has a well-protected altar set up in a remote location near a mineral spring.
I’ll send out threads—
Only a couple, I cut in quickly. We can’t risk her realizing there’s more to the wellsprings here than meets the eye.
There is only one recognized wellspring.
Yes, but this witch has undoubtedly done her research, and she may well be aware of the main wellspring’s resonance. She’s clever enough to note the differences in the threads from your wellspring.
Katie was silent for a moment. I can send a couple of threads from the main spring, but I do not have the control of them that I do with my own.
Perhaps send one of yours accompanied by two of the others. That way, if she does spot them, she may just accept they’re from the same wellspring.
After all, with all the protections around the main wellspring, she wouldn’t have been able to examine it too closely—not without setting off alarms.
That might work. She paused for several seconds. Gabe says that destroying an altar is no easy task and will require more force and knowledge than you can muster.
I can muster a whole lot of force these days. There was no denying the lack of knowledge, however.
Yes, but you can’t risk blowback staining the wild magic. Not given your growing connection with the main wellspring.
There, in one sentence, was confirmation of all my earlier fears. I drew in a deep breath that did little to actually calm the rise of tension. Though it wasn’t like I could actually do anything to stop or even slow the ongoing merger. Not when I had no idea how it even really started, or why. It would perhaps have been understandable had the wellspring here been the one Mom had been sent to restrain and protect when she’d barely been pregnant with me, but it wasn’t. But they did all have the same source—the deep earth—so maybe it was more the fact that this one had been similarly unrestrained when I’d first arrived on the reservation.
Monty will be able to destroy the altar—there is an entire unit dedicated to the subject at university, Katie continued, but Gabe says it will take all his strength and that, by necessity, means you’ll have to dismantle whatever protection rings she’s running around the altar.
I frowned. As you’ve already noted, I don’t have the knowledge. Not when it comes to a dark witch’s magic.
And while Monty undoubtedly knew the theory of dismantlement, he didn’t have the experience. Ashworth and Eli undoubtedly did, but dare we risk pulling them off guard duty when the hone-onna still lurked out there?
Gabe says he’ll guide you.
Via the partial merger again, I take it?
It was what we’d done to defeat Clayton. While Gabe’s soul was irrevocably tied to the wellspring, he’d been able to partially merge with me—sharing my body space and senses to see the traps and spells that Clayton had set and guide me through them. It had drained us both, but it had been worth it.
And if it saved lives in this case, I was more than happy to give it another go.
Yes, Katie said. It’s the safest way.
I nodded, though she was unlikely to see it given the thread was only being used as a communication method. You’ll send out the threads tonight?
Within the hour. If anything is found, I’ll contact you.
Thanks, Katie.
Welcome.
Her thoughts left mine. The thread unwound itself from my wrist and drifted away, though it didn’t go all that far. Maybe Katie had told it to remain close in case she needed to contact me again.
I headed into the kitchen to check the stock levels and write up a list of what had to be ordered tomorrow, and then made a couple of different slices. Slices didn’t keep forever, and there were five varieties in the cake fridge that would reach their use-by date over the next few days.
It was close to eleven by the time I took off my shoes and padded quietly up the stairs. The two women were asleep, and Mrs. Rankin was snoring quite loudly. Thankfully, my room was shielded against all manner of noise, be it physical or mental. It was one of the first things we’d done when we bought the place in order to give Belle refuge from the constant barrage of my thoughts.
After a quick hot shower, I tumbled into bed and was quickly asleep. For a change, my dreams were quiet. That in itself should have been warning enough.
Because at three in the morning, the wild magic woke me.
Katie had found the altar.