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Hell's Bell

Page 14

by Keri Arthur


  I had a quick shower to wash away any bits of the man monster that might remain, and then crawled into bed and went to sleep.

  The café was busy from the get-go the next morning, with a steady stream of customers filing in and out. Most of them were sit-downs, but there were plenty who came in to take away cake, biscuits, or hot drinks—which was good for our bottom line.

  It wasn’t until after two that things began to ease. As I walked into the kitchen with a stack of plates, Mike—our chef—said, “Lizzie, can I talk to you for a moment?”

  “Sure.” I put the plates on the bench to the right of the dishwasher, and turned around. “What about?”

  He hesitated, a hint of uncertainty touching his eyes. While most werewolves—aside from the O’Connors—had amber eyes, there were lots of color variations between packs. Mike’s eyes were a light honey gold in color, which suggested that although he hailed from the Sinclair pack, he’d originated from outside this reservation.

  “Do you mind if we go out the back, where it’s a bit more private? It’s a personal matter.”

  “Sure.” I motioned him to lead the way and then followed. Belle glanced at me, eyebrows raised in silent query. I shrugged and said, Why don’t you come with us?

  She was, after all, co-owner of the place, and if there was a problem then we both needed to deal with it.

  I’ll keep in light contact. If it’s something serious, I’ll come out.

  Fair enough.

  Mike pushed the rear door open and stepped out into the parking lot. I grabbed a coat from the nearby hook and shoved my hands through the sleeves as I followed him out. It was, I was relieved to discover, a whole lot warmer than it had been last night. There was even some blue sky beginning to appear, which gave me some hope that the summer weather that had so far been absent mightn’t be too far away.

  When Mike didn’t immediately speak, I stopped and said, “What’s the problem?”

  “No problem.” He hesitated. “But I’d like to ask you a favor.”

  Caution immediately stirred. I’d gotten myself into trouble more than once for offering to help someone out before I actually knew what they wanted, and I certainly didn’t want step straight into a similar situation here. Not with everything else that was currently going on.

  “What do you need?”

  He scrubbed a hand across his chin and glanced across the lot. Aside from the vehicles and a lone blackbird pulling rubbish out of a nearby bin, the place was empty. After another second or two, he somewhat reluctantly said, “I was wondering if you’d meet with my sister. Her daughter has gone missing, and she’d like your help to find her.”

  The last time I’d tried to find someone’s daughter, it hadn’t ended well—and Mike was well aware of that. Maybe that was why he was so hesitant. “Has she filed a missing person’s report?”

  “No. I told her to, but she refuses.”

  The stirrings of caution became trepidation. “Why?”

  “Because my sister is Meika.”

  The heaviness with which he said that implied I should have been familiar with her name and that only strengthened the trepidation. “I’m afraid I don’t—”

  “Her daughter’s name is Larissa,” he cut in. “Larissa Marin.”

  No wonder he’d wanted to speak out in the parking lot. While I had no doubt plenty of people were aware of their connection, he certainly wouldn’t want to be discussing something like this in hearing distance of others.

  “I didn’t know that, Mike. I’m sorry if we’ve inadvertently said anything over the last few days that upset you.”

  “You and Belle have treated me no different than before all this mess, which is more than can be said about some in the reservation.” A grim smile touched his lips. “I know what they’re all saying, but she didn’t do it. She didn’t kill Aron.”

  I hesitated, but there was no point in pussyfooting around. “She did threaten his family, Mike, and she does apparently have a reputation for violence.”

  “She’s a wild one, to be sure, but I promise you, murder isn’t her style.”

  It was natural for them both to believe that, but if she’d gone on an alcohol or drug-fueled binge, anything was possible. And while I certainly didn’t believe she was directly responsible for the murders, she was still a suspect when it came to bringing the soul eater into the reservation.

  “Neither you nor your sister can be absolutely sure of that.”

  “But we can, because she went missing two days before Aron’s death. She didn’t do it. She wasn’t around to do it.”

  “She wasn’t missing from the compound; she was banned. I know that much, Mike.”

  “Banned from there, yes, but she was staying at her mom’s place in Guildford. But she hasn’t been sighted for several days now, and with these deaths and all, we’re both worried.” He paused. “She’ll pay your regular fee, of course.”

  I waved the offer away. “I’ll do it as a favor to you, but be warned—if I do find her, I’ll be obliged to tell the rangers.”

  “That’s fine, because that’s exactly what Meika wants to convince her to do anyway. I’m not sure she’ll be successful, though. Larissa can be somewhat... stubborn.”

  More than stubborn, from what Aiden had said. “There’s also no guarantee I’ll find her. You’ve heard me talk about psychometry enough to know it can be hit-and-miss.”

  “I know, and I told Meika that.” He grimaced. “She still wants you to try.”

  “Okay. I can book her in tomorrow—”

  “Can you do it this afternoon? At her place?” he cut in. “She doesn’t want to come into town if she can help it, what with all the gossip that’s currently about.”

  I hesitated. Belle, what do you think?

  If Larissa’s desire for revenge is the reason the soul eater is here, then she may be tainted by its darkness, she said. So while I think you should attempt to find her, I’d be creating a protective circle around yourself before you try it.

  Good idea. If she was tainted or otherwise linked to the dark spirit, however lightly, the circle would at least prevent it from sensing my attempt to find Larissa. And that, in turn, might just save Larissa’s life.

  If she was still alive to save, that was.

  I frowned and hoped like hell that wasn’t a premonition coming through. There’d been enough deaths in this reservation already.

  “Okay,” I said, “I’ll go there once we’ve closed the café.”

  “Thank you.” He gripped my arm lightly and then released me. “I’ll come with you, though, if you don’t mind. I also want to be there if you actually go look for her. She’s more likely to talk to me if she’s in a mood than a stranger.”

  I hesitated again and then nodded. It wouldn’t hurt to have him along if and when I found Larissa, and not just because he could talk sense into his niece. Larissa was a werewolf, and a strong one at that, going by what Aiden had said. I might be able to protect myself magically, but physically I’d be very much at the other woman’s mercy. That was a risk I had no intention of taking.

  “Fine.” I glanced at my watch. “We’ll leave at three thirty. Can you ring your sister and let her know we’re coming?”

  “I will, and thanks again.”

  I nodded and followed him back inside. Belle raised an eyebrow and silently said, Are you going to call Aiden?

  I shook my head. Not until there’s something to call him about. It may amount to nothing.

  It won’t if that vague premonition proves to be correct.

  I seriously hope it isn’t. I don't need to see or find any more dead people, Belle.

  On that, we are agreed.

  Once we’d finished clearing the café and cleaning up, I grabbed my backpack and purse, then headed into the reading room to grab my spell stones.

  “Did you bring in your car or did you walk today?” I asked Mike, as I followed him out into the parking lot.

  He smiled, though it did little to
hide the tension in him. “It was too bloody cold to walk this morning. I biked it over.”

  Meaning a motorbike, not a bicycle. “I’ll follow you around to your sister’s, then.”

  He nodded and walked across to the far side of the parking lot. I jumped into our old wagon and turned her around. Mike—now riding a bright red-and-white motorcycle—couldn’t be missed, and not because of its size or color, but because of the sheer volume of noise it made.

  We headed out of Castle Rock on the Midland Highway, going toward Argyle rather than Maldoon. I guess that was to be expected, given what he’d said about his sister’s reluctance to meet anywhere too public. Undoubtedly the Marin pack’s gossip brigade was just as fierce and nosy as those here in Castle Rock.

  We slowed down as we approached Guildford, and turned right at a general store that looked to have been around since the gold rush days. About halfway down the street, Mike pulled into a graveled driveway and stopped. I did the same and grabbed my coat and purse before climbing out. The house was only a little larger than the cottage we’d been at last night, and looked to be about the same vintage, even though it was weatherboard rather than brick. The lace curtains covering the window to the left of the blue-painted door twitched, indicating we’d been seen.

  “This way.” Mike led me up the somewhat rickety wooden stairs to the porch. The door opened as we approached, and a thin, somewhat haggard-looking woman with a surprisingly lush mane of black hair appeared.

  “Oh, Ms. Grace, I’m so glad you were able to come here.” Her golden eyes briefly glimmered with tears. “It’s so unlike Larissa to be gone this long. I fear—”

  She stopped and drew in a deep breath. I smiled, but resisted the urge to touch her arm in comfort. Though I’d been well enough trained that everyday contact with people posed little threat, there were nevertheless some situations—such as when I was caught by surprise or when, like now, the emotions were so very strong—that no amount of safeguards could stop them from affecting me.

  She blinked back tears and added, “Thank you.”

  I nodded and followed Mike into the cottage. It was nominally larger than it had initially looked, consisting of a small hallway from which there were three doors—two bedrooms and living room—and a kitchen/dining area that ran the length of the back room. There was a small covered porch beyond the rear door that connected the house to another building—the bathroom and laundry, I suspected.

  Mike waved me toward the old wooden table to the right of the door. “Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?”

  I walked over but didn’t sit down. Despite the crowded hominess of the place, desperation, fear, and something else—something that needled my senses and made my skin crawl—touched the air. I really didn’t want to stay here any longer than necessary, and I certainly wasn’t about to try and find Larissa without making a protection circle. I might be using psychic rather than witch powers, but if something went wrong—if my attempt to find her became either a full-blown connection or somehow alerted the dark spirit—I wanted to ensure I was utterly safe.

  He filled up the kettle and put it on anyway. Meika came in a few seconds later with something silver dangling from her left hand. “This is Larissa’s,” she said. “Mike said you needed something of hers to focus on.”

  “I do.” I held out my hand and she dropped the chain and small pendant into my palm. Though I had my psi skills locked down fairly tight, I still should have felt a tingle if there’d been a recent connection to Larissa. But there was nothing. The small Celtic cross felt inert. Dead.

  I tried not to think about what that might mean and glanced around. The long kitchen was rather crowded, and between all the tubs filled with what looked like material and cotton reels, and the sewing machine table set up in the far corner, there was little room to truly move.

  “Do you mind if I go into the living area? I need to sit down within a protection circle to try this.”

  “Sure,” she said, and stepped to one side. “It’s the door on the left.”

  I made my way back down the hall and walked into the front room. It was simply furnished, with a long sofa under the window and a well-worn chair to the left. A TV dominated the wall directly opposite the window, and the outside wall was lined with bookcases that were filled with DVDs and Blu-rays rather than books. There was a coffee table in the center of the room, but aside from that, the room was surprisingly free of clutter.

  I glanced around as Meika and Mike appeared at the doorway. “Do you mind if I move the coffee table?”

  “Feel free.” She hesitated. “Are we allowed to watch?”

  “Aside from when I’m creating the protection circle, there won’t be much to see other than me silently sitting on the floor.”

  “I’d still like to be here, just in case.”

  Just in case you find her and she’s dead. She didn’t say those words but they nevertheless hovered in the air. I wasn’t sure how being in the room when or if I discovered that was going to help, but I guess it was a natural desire.

  “I’ve no problems with either of you watching, but once I set up the stone circle around me, you mustn’t come near me or the stones,” I said. “That will break any connection I might have with her.”

  Which was a lie, but it was far better she believed that than me admitting I was worried about a soul eater attacking me through her daughter.

  “I’ll just sit over on my chair, then,” she said, and did so. “This is okay, isn’t it?”

  I nodded and moved the coffee table closer to the bookcases. Then I sat down, placed the necklace in front of me on the floor and pulled the small silk bag from my purse. Once I’d freed the stones, I silently began the protection spell, placing each stone down on the carpet as I wove the spell threads onto them, until the circle was complete and the energy of the spell flowed around me so strongly that the hairs at the back of my neck rose in response. While it wasn’t the strongest protection circle I’d ever created, it was as encompassing as I could make it under the circumstances. I breathed deeply to calm my nerves then picked up the necklace and pressed the Celtic cross into my palm. The metal was cool against my skin. Cool and lifeless.

  Without allowing myself to dwell on the possible reason for that, I closed my eyes and reached down to that place deep inside where my second sight lay leashed and waiting.

  For several seconds, nothing happened. The metal remained cool and inert. Then, gradually, warmth stirred within the cross’s cold heart. It was a distant thing, but it did at least mean that, as of this moment, Larissa was alive—that she, unlike Aron, hadn’t met her death at the hands of our soul eater. The pendant would have remained inert if it had been otherwise.

  I reached deeper, trying to connect with that faint flutter of heat, and drag from its heart some idea of location. It didn’t work—and that perhaps meant Larissa hadn’t worn this necklace very much in recent weeks.

  At least, that’s what I hoped was happening.

  I opened my eyes, scrubbed my free hand across my eyes, and then looked around at Meika. “I can’t grab a connection with this pendant. Do you have anything else she might have worn more recently?”

  Meika shook her head. “Not here, but there’s probably something up at her place on the reservation. I could take you there now—”

  “No,” I cut in, gently but firmly. “It’ll take more time and strength than I currently have.”

  “Oh.” She clasped her hands together, her expression one of disappointment and desperation. “Tomorrow, then?”

  I hesitated. I was more than happy to try and find her tomorrow, but there was no way I could do so without informing Aiden. “I can, but I’ll have to bring one of the rangers with me. There’ll be hell to pay if I don’t.”

  “Is that really necessary? Larissa will just run the minute she spots one of them. She’s never trusted them.”

  The feeling was completely mutual, I was sure. But all I said was, “People are dead, Meika. Lar
issa may well be innocent, but she needs to come forward and talk to the rangers to prove that. Until she does, she’ll remain their number-one suspect.”

  “But if I could talk to her first, reassure her—”

  “It’s better if it’s done this way, Meika,” Mike said gently. “People can see we’re doing the right thing, and have nothing to hide or fear.”

  “The gossips don’t care about right and wrong—not as long as they’ve a juicy morsel to sink their teeth into.” She paused and took a deep, shuddery breath. “But okay, we’ll play it your way. Can you come to the reservation tomorrow morning? Around ten? The worst of the gossips will have moved into Maldoon for their morning tea bitch session by then.”

  “Sure,” I said, barely restraining my grin.

  “Good.” She thrust to her feet. “Are you sure you don’t want a cup of tea?”

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  She nodded and left. I deactivated the protection spell and carefully placed my stones back into their silk bag.

  Mike stepped forward and helped me up. “Is she alive?” he asked softly. “I know you can sense things like that, and it looked to me like you were holding something back.”

  I hesitated. “There was a pulse within the heart of the cross, which suggests life. But I can’t guarantee it, and I can’t tell you what state she’s in or where she might be, because the connection was so damn faint.”

  He drew in a breath, and then released it slowly. “That’s at least something. To be honest, I’d actually thought she might have been dead.”

  I frowned. “Why?”

  “Because even at her wildest, she’d always come home.”

  “Which suggests she has something to fear by doing so.”

  “I know it looks that way, but I just won’t believe she’d kill Aron. They were longtime friends.” He ran a hand through his close-cropped hair. “And she certainly had no reason to drown Marlinda.”

  “Maybe friendship became something more. Maybe she saw them out together and went after them in a fit of jealousy.”

 

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