by Keri Arthur
“It’s your fault,” he said. “You and Belle are too damn interesting.”
“And our cakes too damn delicious,” Belle said dryly. She handed me the empty bottles, and I tossed them back into the pack.
“That could also be a factor.”
I grinned and glanced around as the three ranger trucks switched off their sirens and pulled up in front of the house. Jaz motioned us to get in and then whisked us back to Castle Rock. I was pretty relieved to be home, but it wasn’t like my day—or rather, my night—was over just yet.
“Wouldn’t it be better to worry about the charms tomorrow, when you’re well rested?” Belle locked the front door and then followed me through the main room.
“Probably.” I tossed the backpack on the counter and moved around to flick on the kettle. “But I feel the need to do it now.”
She grunted. “The timing of your psychic radar sometimes leaves a lot to be desired. Do you need some help?”
“No. You go rest—and make sure you put salve on those burns.”
“I’ve already used the holy water, and they’re only minor—”
“And they’re the ones that often present the most danger when it comes to infection.”
She raised her hands, a smile touching her lips. “Okay, okay, salve will be applied, but only after a shower. That water was filled with things that moved, and I want to make sure no leeches—or anything else, for that matter—have hitched a lift on this bod.”
“Before you go, I’ll grab your charm—it’ll be easier to attach the fire repelling spell to that than start all over again.”
She nodded and tugged the charm from her neck. The magic within it caressed my fingers, a wash of energy that was possibly the strongest we’d ever created—at least until I’d woven the fire spell into the café’s protections, anyway. Both our charms were made from multiple strands of leather and copper, with each strand representing a different type of protection. Silver would have been the ultimate choice when it came to spell conduits, but that wasn’t really practical in a werewolf reservation. Or when I was dating a werewolf.
Belle went upstairs. I made myself a hot chocolate, grabbed a large piece of banana cake to boost my energy, and then headed into the reading room. I shifted the furniture, then sat cross-legged on the floor. The spells protecting the room swirled around me—an energy I could now see as strongly as I could feel. The wild magic seemed to be strengthening my “other” senses, and I couldn’t help but wonder again just how far it would go.
And whether it would be enough to stop my father and Clayton when they got here.
Trepidation and fear shivered through me. I shoved them both aside and pulled my charm over my head, placing it on the floor beside Belle’s.
But I didn’t immediately begin. Instead, I ate the cake and drank my chocolate, knowing I’d need the sugar rush to get me through the next half hour or so. Then, with a deep breath to center my energy, I picked up Belle’s charm, first deactivating it and then undoing the sealing thread. With the spell lines exposed, I carefully picked my way through them until I’d reached the two at the heart of the charm—the ones that repelled specific demons and spirits. I gently recrafted the spells to include both the soucouyant and other beings of fire. The wild magic once again stirred through my spell, adding to its power. Whether in the end it would be enough, I really couldn’t say, but it was certainly better than nothing. I locked the fire spell down and then retreated, strengthening and then closing the other layers as I did. Once that was complete, I activated the charm once again. A niggling ache flared in my head, a warning that I was pushing my limits. I briefly closed my eyes then got to my feet and headed out to grab some painkillers and make myself another cup of hot chocolate. The task was only half done—I still had one charm to go.
By the time I’d finished, that niggling headache was full-blown. I rubbed my temples wearily and then picked up the two charms, putting them both over my head before shoving the furniture back into place.
I was halfway to the kitchen when the prophetic part of my soul kicked into gear, swamping my vision and my senses with heat and fire.
I swore and grabbed at the wall in an effort to steady myself, but my senses were swimming and the visions flickering so fast through my brain that it was disorientating. I slid to the floor before I fell and closed my eyes, trying to concentrate on slowing the images down, on trying to see what my psychic senses wanted to show me.
After a dizzying couple of seconds, the fiery reel slowed. I didn’t immediately see anything other than fire—a huge ball of it, rising from beyond the buildings that lined the other side of our street. Then it spun and a building formed—a brick double-story townhouse.
Monty’s place.
Fear had my heart tripping into a higher gear, but the vision wasn’t finished with me yet. Even as the building became clear, it exploded into flames. And then I saw Monty—unhurt, unburned—coming out of the building. But not under his own steam.
He was in the arms of the soucouyant.
The fear increased, but the dream flicked direction. A sky emblazoned with the rich colors of sunset. A deep, dark forest. Aiden in a ranger SUV.
The latter two were on fire.
No, I thought. No.
A sob tore up my throat and the dream shattered. I dropped the cup, scrambled to the backpack, and grabbed my phone.
Aiden answered on the second ring. “Liz—”
“Where are you?” I said.
“Still at the house—why?”
“And Monty?”
“Also here.” The concern in his tone grew. “Again, why?”
“Because I just had a vision, and I saw the soucouyant attacking you both.”
Saw you die....
I swallowed heavily against the tears that rose. Just because I saw it doesn’t mean it was meant to be.
“Did she attack us here?” he asked quickly. “Because we’ll evacuate immediately—”
“No, it didn’t happen there.” I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “It just scared me enough that I had to ring and make sure you were both okay.”
His grunt sounded rather relieved. “Thankfully, we’re almost finished.”
“Good.” I hesitated. “If Monty’s near, can I speak to him?”
“Sure.” The sound of footsteps echoed down the line, and then Monty said, his tone surprised, “Liz? What can I do for you?”
“I just had one hell of a vision about you and the soucouyant.” I quickly told him what I’d seen and then said, “It might be best if you come here tonight rather than to your own place. You can sleep on the sofa—”
“Liz, the mere fact it was dusk when the attack happened suggests it’ll be safe enough to go home tonight.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’ll boost the protections around the townhouse and weave the fire net through it,” he continued evenly. “It should hold her off long enough for me to get somewhere safe.”
“I’m not worried about her fire,” I bit back. “I’m worried about her. About what she plans to do with you.”
“Given she hasn’t an actual body, she can’t do much more than throw firebombs at me. I doubt she’d actually risk coming into town in her true form—especially at sunset, when there’s so much traffic and people moving about.”
“You’re wrong.” So wrong.
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “I’ll pack a bag and head over to your place tomorrow evening. If I’m not at my house, the vision can’t come true, right?”
“Prophetic dreams deal in possibilities not absolutes—”
“Yes, but that doesn’t alter the fact that if I’m not there she can’t get me.”
I took a deep breath and hoped with all I had that he was right. “Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Yes you will,” he said, and hung up.
I looked at the screen for a second, then swore and rang Aiden back. There was nothing more I could do when it ca
me to Monty. I’d warned him, and if he chose not to take it seriously, then on his head be it.
Aiden was an entirely different matter.
“Liz,” Aiden said, “I take it the talk with Monty didn’t achieve the desired results.”
“How’d you guess?”
“Monty made a comment along the lines of you and Belle being worrywarts. I informed him you had good reason, and that he was better off to listen than not.”
“And his reaction?”
“I suspect he thinks I’m defending you because I’m sweet on you.”
I snorted softly. “Just shows how little he knows either of us.”
“Indeed. We’re about five minutes away from packing up—do you need something?”
“Yeah—that charm I made for you. I want to add another spell to it that’ll hopefully protect you from the soucouyant and fire, the latter if only briefly.”
“Briefly might just save my life.” His voice was somber. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes.”
He was there in eighteen. I locked the door behind him and then said, “How’d things go up at the farmhouse?”
He grimaced. “As well as can be expected. But the council will probably have to release a statement tomorrow—we’ve too many kills now for them to expect the press to sit on it.”
“Not to mention the efforts of the gossip brigade.”
“Yeah.” He pulled out a chair at our usual table and sat down. “The council is also unhappy about the prospect of replacing so many vehicles.”
“That suggests you’ve already talked to them.”
“The weekly council meeting is on tonight and I’m usually there to make a report. When I didn’t show up, they rang me—and that’s when I mentioned the two trucks and the car.”
I moved behind the counter to make him a coffee. “The soucouyant might have destroyed your truck, but Ashworth’s didn’t look that damaged. And what car?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Have you forgotten you’re currently without a vehicle?”
“Well no, but why would they replace ours?”
“Because you were in pursuit of the soucouyant on our behalf at the time, and that makes it their responsibility. Besides, it’s the least they can do, given how much help you’ve been to this reservation.”
“Well, I can’t say that it wouldn’t be appreciated. We do have insurance, but the car was so old, we won’t get much in the way of replacement value.” I dragged out a mug and tossed some instant coffee into it. “And Ashworth’s truck?”
“The whole undercarriage and all the wiring was basically burned out by the blast of heat. It’d be more cost-effective for the council to replace it than try and repair it.”
“I can’t see Ashworth arguing about that.”
“Then you’d be wrong. He apparently has a soft spot for the truck—he rebuilt it with his brother.”
Which totally explained his surge of anger when he’d heard it had been overturned. “So what’s going to happen?”
“The council will probably replace it. If the insurance company decides to wreck it—as we suspect they will—then Ashworth will buy it back and start the repair process.”
“Huh.” I made his coffee, then plated up several pieces of brownie and carried them over. I exchanged them for his charm and then said, “This will take about half an hour—can you wait? I don’t want you going home without it.”
You could ask him to stay the night, Belle said. We can bend the “no booty call in the home” rule this once.
And if I do, I’ll be forever plagued by memories of his presence in my bed when we break up.
Ah, she said. Good point.
“If it’s going to save my life,” Aiden was saying, “then I have all the time in the world.”
“Good.” I kissed him quickly and then hurried into the reading room before my suddenly awake hormones were tempted to do anything more.
I shoved all the furniture aside yet again and then sat on the floor. I’d designed his charm to mimic the neck-cords I’d seen many younger wolves wearing, so it had three different-colored leathers as well as a copper strand. It protected him from ill-intent, evil spirits, and most curses except for those created by blood witches, but it wouldn’t protect him from something as strong as this soucouyant. And it certainly wouldn’t protect him against any sort of arcane fire—and that’s what was needed right now.
I took a deep breath and carefully deactivated the charm. Then I undid the sealing thread and began to weave the new protections through the various other spells. It took more energy than I really had, and by the time I’d finished, my eyes were watering with the pain in my head and all I wanted to do was sleep. I didn’t bother pushing the furniture back. I just headed out and handed Aiden the charm.
He accepted it with a frown. “Are you okay?”
I waved a hand. “I will be. I’ve just woven new spells through three charms in the space of a couple of hours, and it takes a toll.”
“You’d best go upstairs and grab some sleep then. I'd rather not be relying on just Monty tomorrow if your vision does come true.”
“If my vision comes true, Monty will be the actual problem.” I scrubbed a hand through my hair. “Let’s just hope that I’m wrong.”
“Indeed.”
He caught my hand and tugged me into his arms. He didn’t kiss me, didn’t do anything more than simply hold me, and once again, it made me feel safer than I’d ever felt before.
“I’d better go. Otherwise you won’t be the only one in no fit state to cope with problems tomorrow.”
He kissed the top of my head and pulled away. I stopped him, then wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him with all the fire and passion bubbling inside.
“That,” I said, after a long while, “is how we say goodnight where I come from.”
“A method I highly approve of.” Amusement creased the corners of his bright eyes. “Only trouble is, it’s one that inevitably leads to a restless night.”
My gaze skimmed down his body and a grin split my lips. “I’m sure you’re quite capable of taking that problem in hand.”
“I think I’d rather wait until you can take the problem in hand.”
“Which is a distinct possibility, but only after the soucouyant is caught.”
“I can wait.” He bent and kissed me again. Then, with a soft curse that spoke of frustration, he turned and stalked toward the door. I watched until he’d climbed safely into the SUV and driven away, and then locked the door and headed upstairs. Where I collapsed into a deep, unbroken sleep.
I was late waking the next morning, but the headache had at least disappeared. After a quick shower to freshen up, I clattered down the stairs to help with the café. We had a steady flow of customers all day, and there was a whole lot of discussion and nervousness about the recent spate of murders—and most of it didn’t come from the brigade. Aiden was right—if the council didn’t release a statement, there was going to be trouble. It would be interesting to see what they actually said, though, because I very much doubted telling everyone there was a murderous fire spirit loose in the reservation would in any way ease the nervousness.
Monty appeared near six, a backpack slung over his shoulder and his expression suggesting he was simply humoring me. Not that it mattered. Not if doing so kept him safe.
After we’d eaten dinner, I made us all a cappuccino and brought them over to the table. “How are we going to track this thing now that we haven’t got the other one?”
Monty accepted his coffee with a nod of thanks. “I’m not really sure. The only thing Jamie—my mate in Canberra—could come up with was doing some sort of heat-seeking spell. But that would only work outside Castle Rock, simply because there’re too many points of heat within the city center.”
Belle took a sip of her coffee and then leaned back in the chair. “What if you set a specific heat level within the spell? That would cut out much of the heat chatter from the city itself.”
“Good idea, but there’s one problem—I’ve never come across a heat-seeking spell. Jamie is still going through the archives to see what he can find.”
I frowned. “There surely has to be something somewhere. Soucouyants and fire spirits have been around for as long as witches—if not longer.”
“Maybe so, but that doesn’t alter the fact there’s nothing in the everyday databanks.” Monty picked up a teaspoon and scooped up some of the froth on the top of the coffee. “I’ve asked him to instigate a European search. We might have greater luck in more ancient archives.”
I frowned. “How long is that likely to take though?”
“He’ll make it as a priority one request, so it could take a couple of hours or it could take a couple of days.” He shrugged. “So unless we can fudge a spell—and I’m not really certain that’s the best option right now—then we’ve no other choice but to wait.”
“I don’t think we can afford to.” Especially when any sort of delay might lead to someone else dying. Belle, what’s the likelihood of us finding something in your books?
Who knows? I did pull a couple of spell books from the boxes, but they’re not indexed so we’ll have to go through them.
And that will have to be done tonight if we’re to have any hope of catching this thing before it kills again. I paused. It also means we’ll have to let Monty know about your gran’s books.
We don’t actually have to mention or even show him the entire the library, she said. The three spells books are sitting on the coffee table upstairs. He won’t see the others—they’re either in my room or in the storage unit.
“I get the feeling you two are having a whole conversation without me,” Monty said.
“That’s because we are.” My tone was bland. “But the upshot is, we might have a couple of books that could help our search.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”
I smiled at the doubt in his voice. “Do you remember Belle’s gran?”
“No—should I?”
“Hell, yes.” Belle’s tone was indignant. “She was a rather famous cataloger, and not only had a huge library of all things supernatural, but a rather large collection of spell books.”