by Keri Arthur
I closed my eyes and silently cursed whatever gods were listening for doing this to her.
“Did you find my mom?” she added.
“I’m afraid the vibrations coming from the necklace completely faded before we could.” I said it as evenly as I was able. “But we got a general location and the rangers are up there now looking for her.”
She was silent for a moment, and then said, a catch in her voice. “Did you find her SUV? It’s a gray Hyundai—”
“There were no vehicles like that in the area that we could see.”
“Where did the trail end?”
“Up the back of Hank’s Mill. I’m sure the rangers will be in contact the minute they find anything. You need to relax—”
“Would you?” she cut in, her voice a mix of anger and desperation.
“No.” I hesitated again. “I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more help, Alice.”
“At least you’ve pinned down a location,” she said. “That’s more than we had before.”
“Yes, it is.”
She sighed. “I guess I’ll just have to wait. But thanks for trying.”
“No problem—and I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you both.”
She hung up. I blew out a breath, then flashed a smile Belle’s way as she handed me a whiskey. “I know it’s very early to start drinking, but I figure we’d need the fortification to get through the night.”
“And you only half filled the glass? What, is there a drought on or something?”
She chuckled and immediately topped the glass up. The whiskey did its job, though, because I was able to get through the rest of the afternoon without stressing too much over the upcoming confrontation.
My phone rang just after four; the chime told me it was Aiden. I all but danced across the room to grab it, then hit the answer button and said, “Good afternoon, gorgeous.”
There was a long moment of silence, and then he said, with something close to amusement in his tone, “Have you been drinking?”
“Only a little. The new witch is dropping by for dinner, and I needed the fortification.” I hesitated. “It’s my goddamn cousin, Aiden.”
He swore softly. “Are you okay? Do you need me there?”
“I’d love you here, but I think it better if we just hash things out between the three of us first.”
“In other words, there are truths you still don't want me to know.” His tone was neutral, but I nevertheless heard the annoyance behind it.
“And you know why, Aiden.”
“I don’t accept or understand those reasons, Liz. Not when it’s pretty damn obvious to even the blindest of fools that I’d never do anything to hurt you.”
But you will, I wanted to say, because you’re a werewolf and I’m not. And that meant we could only ever be as we now were—lovers and friends but never anything more. Until I found that “more”—until I found the man I would spend the rest of my life with—then the deeper truths about my past would remain mine.
“If the situation was different, if you weren’t a werewolf—” I hesitated. “But we can’t change what or who we are, Aiden.”
He was silent for altogether too long—perhaps digesting not so much what I’d said, but what I hadn’t.
I used the moment to change the subject. “Are you dropping by to pick up your truck this afternoon?”
“It won’t be until much later. We’ve just received word of an abandoned SUV that matches the make and model of Mrs. Dale’s, so Tala is picking me up and we’re heading out there now.”
“I may have already crashed if you’re back too late. Do you want me to leave your keys somewhere?”
He hesitated. “No. If we’re late getting back, I’ll ask Tala to drop me home and then pick it up in the morning.”
“Are you coming for breakfast?”
“If it’s being offered, most certainly.” The smile in his voice didn’t defuse the anger still evident. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Liz.”
When we’ll talk some more. He didn’t say that, but it nevertheless seemed to shimmer down the phone line.
“You will.” I hung up and silently cursed fate and anyone else who might be listening for putting me in this position—even if, in truth, I had no one to blame but myself, my fears, and my inability to fully trust anyone but Belle.
“You've got good reason not to trust after being betrayed by your own goddamn father,” Belle said. “But if you're right—if Castle Rock is our end destination—then I think you need to come clean with Aiden.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Even if I do, it doesn't change the situation between us.”
“No, but it will at least end the lies.” Belle hesitated. “And if your premonitions are right—if your dad does discover and come after us—then we’re going to need him in our corner.”
I snorted softly. “Do you really think either my father or Clayton will take any goddamn notice of a ranger?”
“No, but I doubt Aiden will be the only one in our corner. I rather suspect Katie and the wild magic will be too, and not even your father can do much about the latter. Your mom certainly proved that strength and breeding don’t matter when it comes to wild magic.”
Which was true enough. I didn’t really know the exact details, as it had happened in the months before I was born, but I did know her efforts to channel and control had almost resulted in her death.
Was that the reason I could do what she couldn’t? Had her close call with the wild magic somehow made me more attuned to it?
It was possible. Very possible.
I threw my phone back into my bag and went back into the kitchen to finish preparations for the evening meal. Sunlight was still streaming into the café by the time seven rolled around. Monty arrived at five past and rapped loudly on the door.
“Ready?” I said, with a glance at Belle.
“Yeah. But he can’t actually ask any questions until I release his thoughts, so expect a thick wave of anger and frustration.”
“Great.” I shored up my defenses, then walked across to the door and opened it.
He strode in, his face thunderous and his body practically vibrating. “You had better damn well explain—”
“Monty, sit down, shut the fuck up, and we will,” I said. “But please believe we had a very good reason for stopping you blurting out our real identities to all and sundry.”
He glanced at me, eyes narrowed and expression unconvinced. But, after a moment, he moved across the room and threw his coat over the back of the chair at the table we’d set for dinner. Belle silently handed him a glass of red and then sat down opposite him.
I perched between the two of them and wrapped my hands around my whiskey glass. “You know how you said earlier that you had to get out of Canberra because your dad was angry accreditation had uncovered the fact you were less than expected?”
His nod was a short, sharp movement.
I glanced at Belle.
Don’t look at me. He can speak—he just doesn’t want to.
Oh. I returned my gaze to Monty. “Imagine how much worse it would have been if you’d not only been declared underpowered, but were also held responsible for the death of a sibling who did meet your father’s expectations? A sibling who was the shining light in your father’s eyes?”
He frowned. “Why would your father hold you responsible for Catherine’s death? She was killed by a dark sorcerer, and while she might have been the last victim, she was by no means the only one.”
“Because,” I said, my voice holding an edge of bitterness I couldn’t quite control. “I tried to save her, and I failed.”
His confusion deepened. “I take it you tried to do so alone?”
“Yes.”
“But why on earth would you do that? Why didn’t you talk to your parents?”
I raised my eyebrows. “Would you have listened to someone you considered a failure as a witch?”
He hesitated. Belle’s snort filled the silence. “That right there is y
our answer.”
“That might be true enough,” he said, his expression losing some of its anger. “But surely after five other deaths, they would have at least been willing to entertain your information.”
“Except the information didn’t come via magic. It came to me as a prophetic dream.” One that had taken me entirely too long to understand. By the time that I had, it had been too late to save Cat.
“Ah.”
“Yeah,” Belle said. “We all know just how highly bluebloods value psi powers.”
“That’s because most of them are of little true use.” He paused. “Which I guess is your point.”
“Yes.” I took a drink, but the fiery liquid did little to check the rush of images that pressed at my mind—the grimy abandoned warehouse where Cat had met her doom, the bloody parts of her body within the black pentagram, the sorcerer’s face smeared with her blood. The force of his energy hurtling me backward and then smashing me into one wall after another, until my body was almost as broken and bloody as Cat’s. The desperate, last-minute spell I’d cast that had set him alight and broken bones even as Belle raised the spirit world and sent them riding to my rescue.
I probably should have died that day, right alongside my sister. It was only thanks to Belle that I hadn’t. To this day, I had no idea what had happened to the sorcerer who’d killed Cat and the other witches. His body had never been found; the general consensus in Canberra was that the dark spirits he’d dealt with had claimed both his flesh and his soul on death.
My prophetic dreams believed otherwise.
I gulped down the rest of my drink. “My parents held me accountable for her death. It didn't matter that they wouldn’t have believed me, didn’t matter that she was already dead by the time I got there. Their golden child was gone, and they had to blame someone. I was the easiest target.”
He was silent for a moment, his gaze on my face. It was something I felt rather than saw, simply because I didn’t dare look at him. It might have all happened just over twelve years ago now, but the pain and the deep sense of betrayal still hurt as fiercely now as it had back then.
“Why did you run?” he asked eventually.
I grimaced. “Because my father decided the best way to deal with a problem was to get rid of it.”
He blinked. “You’re not saying he tried to kill you—”
“No. But sometimes there are worse things than death.”
And Clayton had certainly been one of those things.
A shudder ran through me. Belle silently filled my glass again and I hastily gulped it down. At this rate, I’d be drunk before dinner was even served.
“So what has any of this got to do with you shutting down my ability to say your names?”
“You can say our real surnames,” Belle said. “Just not when you’re in the company of anyone else but us.”
He didn’t look relieved by this statement. “Why the restriction?”
“Because we legally changed our surnames to Grace and Kent to ensure my parents could never track either of us down.”
“If they’d wanted to find you, they would have by now.” His voice was dry. “Tracing spells are very proficient at such things.”
“Yes, but there are also spells to counter them.”
“Which you don’t have the magical strength to perform.” He studied the two of us for a second. “Or, at least, you didn’t back then.”
“But I did have a large inheritance from my grandfather. It’s amazing what money can buy if you apply it in the right areas.”
“Which you—as a sixteen-year-old—should not have known.”
“The three low witch houses are not as finicky in their friends as the three blueblood,” Belle murmured. “And sometimes that very much plays to their advantage.”
“Is that why your mother was taken into custody and questioned?” Monty asked.
Belle leaned forward at that, her expression alarmed. “Did they harm her?”
“Not as far as I heard—and I heard quite a lot given I was still my father’s shining light at that stage.” He hesitated. “They would have spelled her to speak what she knew, though.”
“Which wouldn’t have revealed anything,” I said. “She might have been the one who advised us to run, but we never told her our plans or what we intended.”
“And haven’t contacted her since, I’m guessing,” he said.
“Yes.” I frowned. “Why?”
His smile held a bitter edge. “You really have to ask that?”
I stared at him for a second, then swore softly. “They placed a spell on her so that she’d inform them if and when she heard from us?”
“So my father said.” He glanced at Belle. “But it’s doubtful the spell would have lasted much longer than a few weeks, so you’re probably safe to contact her now if you wanted.”
An almost wistful smile touched her lips. “As much as I’d love to, I don’t really think we can take the chance.”
He shook his head, disbelief evident. “I hate to be blunt about this, Liz, but it’s been twelve years—do you really think Edward has any remaining interest in you? He has grandchildren now—four of them.”
“Juli has children?” I said, even as Belle said, Well, hell, there’s a scary thought.
Extremely. My brother had been a conceited twit barely able to look after himself, let alone four kids of this own....
“Yes, and he dotes on them,” Monty said. “He has no need to chase after someone who doesn’t want to be found.”
Meaning he didn’t know the whole story. And if he didn’t, how many others wouldn’t? Of course, a lack of knowledge didn’t make me safer, as not even my father could make legally signed and submitted documents go away. Nor could Clayton move on until I’d been found and the documents voided.
Though I doubted moving on was what Clayton would want, even now. Not given the fool I’d made out of him.
I raised an eyebrow and tried to ignore the renewed churning in my gut. “You worked in Canberra, and you certainly know my parents. Does my father seem the type to forgive and forget to you?”
He frowned. “Well, no, but—”
“This isn’t just about my sister’s death, Monty. While he certainly held me accountable for that, my bigger crime was the fact I embarrassed him. Me—an underpowered nobody—made him look like a fool in front of a man who wasn’t only a good friend but a powerful member of the council. He won’t ever forget that.”
Neither of them would ever forget that.
Monty’s confusion increased. “I certainly can’t remember anything along those lines being spoken about—”
“And probably never will. My father is not one to air his dirty laundry, even amongst his own family.”
He leaned back in his chair and eyed me for a moment. “Let’s do a deal.”
Belle and I glanced at each other; though her expression gave little away, I could feel her uncertainty as strongly as my own.
“What sort of deal?” she asked warily.
“For a start,” he said, “you stay out of my goddamn head.”
“And?” I said, because there was obviously more.
“You tell the truth about the wild magic. In exchange, I won’t mention your presence here in the reservation in any of my reports back to Canberra.”
“That by default means you can’t mention the wild magic in any of them.”
“Why the hell not? There are certainly traces of it both in your spell work and in your energy output, but the former, at least, isn’t particularly unusual in a reservation all but awash with the stuff.”
“But the latter is,” I replied. “So if you want the truth then you have to agree to not mention the wild magic.”
“Except I’m not only here as the government’s representative but to investigate the rumors of the wild magic’s unusual pattern of behavior.”
So someone had read Ashworth’s report and had been curious enough about his comments to word Monty up. “
What exactly were you told about it?”
He shrugged. “Just that it appeared to have gained some sort of sentience and was, in some instances, acting with intent.”
Which was certainly true, and not just because of Katie’s presence. The wild magic had woven itself through my spells long before I’d become aware of its presence, and the café was nowhere near the main wellspring. And while the long strands of its power hovered over the reservation’s wilder regions, it was very rarely found anywhere near Castle Rock.
“What about a compromise? You can mention the wild magic but can’t mention the truth of this place.” I hesitated. “And it’s not just because of me and Belle.”
“I’m not entirely sure that’s—”
“Monty, there are some secrets—just as there are some magics—that are too dangerous for general consumption.”
“We’re talking about the high council here. I don’t think—”
“You don’t yet know the truth,” I said. “It’s not what you think.”
His gaze narrowed for several seconds, then he glanced across at Belle. “I suppose if I don’t agree, you’ll just make sure I can’t say or send anything about this place to the council.”
A smile touched her lips but she didn’t bother replying.
He swore and then held out his hand. Energy sparkled across his fingertips. “Fine. A deal then.”
I clasped his hand, and my magic merged with his. Except it wasn’t just my magic. “A deal sworn on the power of this place is a deal that cannot be broken,” I said softly. “Do so at your own peril, Monty.”
Something flashed through his expression—something that was both fear and understanding. “Ashworth was wrong. It’s more than just an affinity with this place, isn’t it?”
I hesitated. “I actually don’t know what it is. I just know that I can use the wild magic—and not just in spells. I can call it to me—and aside from the change in my eye color, it’s had no real effect.”
“Apart from being drained to the point of insensibility and coming close to death,” Belle commented, voice dry. A timer went off in the kitchen and she rose. “I hope you still like lasagna, Monty, because that’s what we’ve made.”