“Well, it was obvious that Sandy wasn’t here tonight, but grand opening was supposed to be next Sunday. This pretty much nixes any chance of that. Who the hell has it in for her?” I shook my head. “I wonder if my Divining spell would show us who’s behind this?”
Delia shrugged. “I don’t know, but if it can help, I say bring it on. I’ve requested extra patrols to drive past her house every hour, just to keep watch. I don’t have the manpower to post a watch 24/7 on her, but I may call in volunteers, given the fire.”
Aegis broke in. “I’ll spend the rest of the night keeping watch outside the house. Max is there, but it’s easier for me than it is for him to stand guard. I can hide outside, and make certain nobody comes skulking around.”
I leaned my head against his arm. “Thank you. I’ll call Max and tell him we’re coming over after we leave here. Then I can drop you off and drive the ‘Vette home.”
“Yeah, you just want to get your hands on my wheel,” he said, winking at me. But his smile faded as we turned back to the fire. The firemen were doing their best to get the flames under control, but the gusty evening was giving them problems.
“They aren’t going to be able to save anything, are they?” I asked after a moment.
Delia shook her head. “No, I don’t think they will. It’s gone. Thank gods there aren’t any other buildings around to catch fire.”
“Small favors,” I whispered.
“Does she have insurance on it? There’s nothing left.”
“I’m sure she did. This sucks. She was really looking forward to seeing how the business did. It’s her first solo venture since her ex died. I think she wants to develop her own brand, away from Sand Witch Delights.”
Sandy’s ex had come out of the closet by running off with one of their waiters, leaving her heartbroken and alone. But after a while, they had reconnected as friends, and Bart had made certain that Sandy remained on the board of their joint restaurant empire, and that she got every penny she was due. They had stayed good friends until back in March, when Bart had died of a massive heart attack.
“Do you think she intended to sell off her stock in Sand Witch Delights?”
“Don’t quote me, but I think she was considering it. She owns most of the company, thanks to Bart. But it’s a tie to the past and I think she’s ready to let it go.”
The three of us watched as the rest of the building crumbled. The firemen were barely managing to contain the flames. There wasn’t much they could do to stop the destruction, so they focused on making sure the sparks and flying debris didn’t set any side fires.
Ten minutes later, Joel Purdy drove up, hopping out of his truck to jog over to us. “Well, she’s gone, isn’t she?” he said, appraising the situation.
“Smell the air.” Delia gave him a quick look.
He sucked in a deep breath. “Gas. Strong scent of gas. Didn’t she use propane in there for the grills?”
“Yeah, but this is different. I smell it on the outskirts. Plus there’s the fact that the propane tank hadn’t been delivered yet. I asked Max when I called him. It was supposed to be brought in today, but the schedule got tangled and it wasn’t due till Monday.” Delia pulled a candy bar out of her pocket and bit into the chocolate wafer crunch.
“Well, that makes my job easier, then.” Joel shook his head. “Damned arsonists. I hate them.” He shivered, glancing up at the sky. “Did you notice the gulls?”
I frowned. “Gulls don’t usually fly at night.” I shaded my eyes and followed the flock of about ten gulls as they circled the shore. “How odd.”
“There’s a storm out there. I can smell it. And it’s filled with magic and thunder.” Joel let out a sigh, then headed toward the building as the walls and roof collapsed. A loud roar went up, and there was nothing left except a giant bonfire. The firemen moved in, their hoses aimed at the remains of the building.
I walked past Delia, toward the shore. Aegis followed me. We were about ten feet from the water when I stopped. I stretched out my arms, letting the wind blow past me. It caught up my hair, tossing it in the unsettled breeze. Clouds had socked in, and the taste of brine was on my tongue.
Aegis knelt, examining a shell.
“I can feel what Joel was talking about,” I said, closing my eyes. The wind was rife with magic, glittering and wild, riding the currents like a freight train. “There’s power here. It walks in the sands. It rides the air and the waves. Whatever it is, it’s strong and it’s old.”
The distant rumble of thunder broke the silence, and the skies opened up, drenching us with fat, cold droplets. The deluge put quick work to the remaining flames, and they sizzled, drowned out by the torrent. Aegis handed me the shell.
I examined it. It was luminous, white and delicate, and it reminded me of mother-of-pearl. “I think this is a moon snail. They’re supposed to bring good luck.” I raised the ping pong–sized shell to my ear, but the rain made it impossible to hear anything.
My tank was sticking to my skin, and my hair plastered itself to my head. Aegis wrapped his arms around my waist, standing in back of me, and we continued to watch the water as, behind us, the firemen watched as the last of the embers flickered quietly.
ALEX BROUGHT TOWELS for the both of us and robes for us to change into. Max handed us snifters of brandy. Aegis and I were soaked to the skin. Sandy sat in her wheelchair, staring at the table morosely as we told her what had happened to the Oyster Bar.
“Joel was watching the last of the embers die as we left.” I sipped the apricot-flavored liqueur, grateful for the warmth on my throat. Aegis tossed his shot back. Vampires could eat and drink anything they wanted, but neither food nor alcohol did them any good other than for the sake of the taste.
“I want to know who’s doing this, damn it.” Sandy shifted in frustration.
Max rested his hands on her shoulders. “We’ll find out, love. We’ll find out.”
“I thought I’d try a Divining spell to see if I can suss out any possible suspects. It’s not a guarantee, but it’s better than sitting around wringing my hands.” I accepted the offer of a sandwich from Alex, who returned with a platter of BLTs. I glanced around. “Is Jenna asleep?”
“Yes. She was tired. The girl was at my beck and call all day, even though I told her to go watch TV for a while.” Sandy accepted the snifter of brandy that Max handed her. “Who would want me dead? And since the restaurant wasn’t even open yet, and nobody was there tonight, whoever it is seems determined to ruin my business, if they can’t kill me.”
“Joel hasn’t come to a conclusion yet, of course, but we all smelled gasoline around the restaurant.” Frustrated, I twisted my lip. “It couldn’t have been an accident.”
“The propane was supposed to be in a day or so ago, but it got delayed a couple times. The only incendiary devices in the place were a few lighters. This was arson, Maddy. I know it. Somebody has it in for me.” She pressed her lips together, staring at the table.
My phone jangled and I glanced at the Caller ID. Delia.
“Hello?”
“Are you with Sandy right now?”
“Yes, we’re all at her place. Why?”
“Joel found the gas cans used to set the fire. The arsonist didn’t seem too concerned about leaving evidence.” There was a tension in her voice that told me there was something more.
“What else did you find?”
“I just received a call from the manager at Sand Witch Delights. Somebody threw a rock through their front window, shortly before closing. A waiter was injured. He’s at the hospital with a concussion and some cuts and scratches from the broken glass, but he should be all right. The rock had a message tied around it. I’ll bring it over, if Sandy’s awake. We’re putting extra guards on her house tonight, and on the café. She might want to call in some hired muscle. Unfortunately, we can’t afford to keep an eye on it 24/7. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
As I put down
my phone, my pulse was racing. “Delia’s on her way over. Sandy…” I paused, hating to add to her burden.
“What’s happened now?” She straightened her shoulders.
“Somebody threw a rock through the window of Sand Witch Delights and hurt one of your waiters. There was a message around the rock. Delia’s bringing it with her.”
“Oh no,” Sandy caught her breath. “Who was hurt?”
“Delia didn’t say, though she did say he’ll be all right. He’s in the hospital for a concussion and some cuts. She said you might want to hire some muscle to watch the restaurant—the cops will watch it tonight, but they can’t keep guard all the time.”
Max broke away, striding over to the bar where he refilled his glass. “I’m on it, sweetheart. I’ve got several friends who would be more than willing to take on a guard job. And trust me, weretigers don’t mess around.”
Sandy’s lower lip was trembling. She wasn’t prone to tears, but this all seemed to be getting a bit much for her. “Thank you. I’d appreciate the help.”
Max nodded, pulling out his phone. A moment later, he was talking in low tones, but we could still hear him. “Rocco? Yeah, I need muscle and I need it now… Right. Do you have four men you can spare? I need two to watch over my girlfriend’s restaurant and two to guard her house.” He paused, listening for a moment.
“Right…right. We’re dealing with some psycho out to get her. They tried to kill her, that’s what… Yes, I know. And then they torched her new takeout place, and we’re worried they may do the same to the other restaurant.… That would be fine. I trust them. I’ll text you the addresses. Get them on the job as soon as we’re off the phone. Don’t worry about costs. You know we’re good for it.”
After quickly texting the addresses, he turned back to us. “Rocco will have two of his men over here in twenty minutes, and at the restaurant in twenty. Be sure to let Delia know about them so her deputies don’t think they’re the ones at fault.”
While Sandy thanked him, I quickly called Delia and told her about the incoming weretigers. She promised to let the officers in charge know about them.
Another ten minutes and she was at the door. “How are you doing?”
Sandy shrugged. “I suppose all right, considering somebody’s decided I’m better off dead.”
“Right. Well, we have the note. It’s in an evidence bag, so that we can dust it for fingerprints, though I’m not hopeful in that regard. But I thought you might recognize the handwriting. It’s a long shot, but you never know.” She held out the plastic-sheathed note to Sandy. “Try to touch it only by the edges of the plastic bag, so you don’t smudge any potential prints.”
Sandy gingerly took the letter. It had been smoothed, but still showed the rumple marks where it had been folded around the rock. I looked over her left shoulder, Max stared over her right as she read it.
You can’t escape forever. Our enemies cannot hide from us, and you have proven yourself to be among them. We will come for you, and you will pay for your disrespect.
“What the hell?” I stared at the page. “Disrespect? Who the fuck thinks you’ve disrespected them?”
“I don’t know,” Sandy said. “I don’t recognize the writing. This makes no sense. Until yesterday when somebody tried to mow me down, I thought everything in my life was going pretty good. Obviously, I was mistaken.” She handed it back to Delia. “I have no idea.”
“Hold on, can you let me hold the letter? I’ll be careful, but it would help if I decide to try a Divining spell. Touching something from the person I’m trying to unmask increases the chance of success.” I took the letter and, carrying it by the corners like Sandy had, sat down in a chair, closing my eyes as I tried to home in on the energy. Taking a deep breath, I lowered myself into trance.
“Why don’t you cast the spell now, if you have the energy?” Delia said. “I can let you use the letter that way, but still make certain it’s legally usable as evidence.”
I opened my eyes. “Sandy, do you have a spare dagger I can use? I’ll also need a white candle, a sage stick, and a bowl of water.”
She nodded. “Max? There’s a silver dagger in my ritual room—it’s hanging on the wall in a black leather sheath. It’s a spare and Maddy can use it.”
Max jumped up. “I can get all that for you. How big should the bowl of water be?”
“A crystal punch bowl if you have it, two-thirds full. The candle should be in a tall crystal holder. I’ll also need a cup of sea salt.” I moved everything off the table and motioned to Delia. “If you’d put the letter on that side—opposite me but facing me. I know you’re uncomfortable around magic…” I paused, not wanting to insult her.
Werewolves weren’t fond of magic. Unlike other shifter races, it set them on edge, kind of like nails on a chalkboard. But Delia had to have developed some resistance against it. She had weathered the fight between Aegis’s ex and me, when I’d unleashed a fireball to toast Rachel’s ass.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve dealt with plenty of magic in my day. Do what you need to.” She moved back, but not out of the room.
Max brought back the candle, candleholder, and dagger, then moved to the kitchen to fill a crystal punch bowl with water. He placed it, along with a cup of sea salt, on the table in front of me. “Need anything else, Maddy?”
“I’m good. Will you and Sandy move off to the side there? And Aegis, you can sit over there?” I arranged everybody, shooing Alex out of the room. Then I scattered the salt into the water, placed the candleholder in the center of the bowl so the candle rose up out of the center of the bowl. I touched the wick with my finger.
“Light.” The candle flared to life. After casting a quick Circle to keep out any wandering spirits, I leaned over the bowl. After blowing a steady breath across it, I began to chant.
Breath to water, water to mirror,
Bring that we seek to see so clear.
I turned my attention to the letter, narrowing my focus. Who wrote you, I thought. Who threw you through the window? Who’s out to hurt Sandy? When my attention was solely focused on those questions, I began to chant.
I seek to see the face of one,
Who seeks to hurt my dearest friend.
Mirror, mirror, waterborne,
Hear me and inform.
I glanced up at Sandy, then waved my hand over the water and waited. A moment passed. Then another, and then I caught a glimpse of something stirring in the water. I leaned closer, gazing intently at the surface.
The water shifted, swirling around the candle. Another moment and an image began to form. I tried to make out what was taking shape in the water, but it seemed muddied and nebulous. As I leaned even closer, I blinked. It looked like…a fish? That couldn’t be right. But there it was, a very squat goldfish.
I leaned back. “Did you by any chance use this bowl to hold a fish?”
Sandy stared at me for a moment, then let out a short laugh. “Yes, actually. Jenna put her fish in there while she was cleaning the tank.”
“Good. I didn’t think a goldfish had it out for you. Let me try again.” I lowered myself back into trance and waved my hand across the water. For a moment, it was still and then, another fish swam past, and then I saw a strand of kelp or some other form of seaweed. This one didn’t look like a goldfish, but I had the feeling that was all the bowl was going to show me. Apparently, the fish had made a strong energetic impact on the bowl. It must be one hell of a goldfish, I thought.
“Um, nothing. Except that you might tell Jenna her fish is full of life.” I blew out the candle. “I can’t pick up anything except the fish. I’m sorry.” I felt like I had let Sandy down, but then again, Divining spells didn’t always work the way we wanted them to.
“Thanks for trying,” Delia said, picking up the letter and dropping it back into the evidence bag. “We’ll see if we can pull any prints off of this. Meanwhile, you say you hired some protection?”
&nb
sp; Max nodded. “Not much can get past Rocco’s men.”
“Rocco? Well then, you’re probably safe for the time being.” Delia raised her eyebrows, contemplating Max. “I didn’t realize you knew him.”
“I did Rocco a favor sometime ago. I saved his ass, actually. I’d rather not say how, but he promised to help me out if he could. I pay him, of course, but he cuts me a real deal. I haven’t had to call in a favor for a long time.”
“Who’s Rocco?” Aegis asked, before I could jump in with the same question.
Delia glanced at Max, who shrugged, blushing.
“He’s part of the Pretcom underground. He’s not exactly on the right side of the law, but he’s never gone up against anybody who doesn’t deserve it. You might say he’s…vigilante material,” she said.
“Rocco owns a private investigation agency, and he also hires out bodyguards on the side. He’s been instrumental in helping put a stop to some of the Subcult’s extortion techniques. Not that much of that goes on here on the island, but back in Seattle? There’s a definite shifter mob base and most of them are just as unsavory as their human counterparts. Rocco pulls enough weight to lean on them.”
I stared at Max, my mouth hanging open. “And you hang out with him? Wait, what do you mean, shifter mob base? Are you talking Mafia?”
“Well, not the Mafia, but a mafia. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of them. The leader is Vern Raffiolo. He was born in northern Italy in the 1800s and moved to Chicago in the 1920s. He was inspired by the mob, and when he relocated to Seattle during the 1950s, he decided to take the best of their tactics and apply them to his own gang. Only he stuck to Otherkin, mostly shifters, as targets. For decades he threatened to out various shifters in the community unless they paid him.” Max shrugged, holding up his hands as we all stared at him. “What? You think I’ve just kept my nose buried in the sewing machine all these years?”
Siren's Song (Bewitching Bedlam Book 3) Page 7