Deadly Vows

by Arthur, Keri

  Ruby hesitated. “If your father continues his attempts to make amends, it’ll count in his favor. I’m afraid many will view his behavior—in arranging a marriage, not in coercing via magic and drugs—as nothing out of the ordinary. Such arrangements have been happening for eons, after all.”

  Meaning he’ll likely be handed some fines, then patted on the back and told not to do it again. Belle’s mental tone was angry.

  You know what? I think I could live with that, as long as Clayton goes down hard.

  Personally, I’d like to see both of them face the full weight of the law, but I guess one of them facing it is better than nothing.

  It was certainly more than we’d ever hoped for.

  Jenna finished her potion, then pushed the chair back and rose. “We’ll head back to Canberra in the morning. It’ll take a day or so for the full board to arrive, so don’t expect any immediate action.”

  “Will you contact us once the board has made its decision?” I asked.

  Ruby placed her teacup on the coffee table and began dismantling her tripod. “You’ll receive official notification of our acceptance—or indeed rejection, if that does happen to occur—of your case and then be kept updated on proceedings.”

  I nodded. “Thank you both for doing this.”

  The smile that touched Ruby’s lips had a slightly anticipatory edge. “Oh, trust me, it’s no hardship. Especially when it comes to Clayton Marlowe.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You’ve a personal gripe against him?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I did, as that could lead to claims of bias from his lawyers.” Ruby swung her backpack over her shoulder. “But there are many on the board who have run afoul of the man in recent years. He’s not what he once was.”

  I frowned. “He didn’t seem any less powerful when he was here the other night.”

  “The weight of magical power alone does not give you standing or respect in Canberra,” Jenna commented. “Actions also count.”

  Which backed up Ashworth’s comments that Clayton had done himself no favors over the last few years.

  “I don’t suppose you’d care to share what he’s done?” I said.

  Ruby shook her head. “That would be gossiping, and not in our brief. But if you want to know, you could check out The Canberra Times. You might find some illuminating news reports.”

  “I’ll do that. Thanks.”

  She nodded, and the two of them left. I locked the door behind them and then said, Belle, I’m going to repair the protections and then stay down here and do some prep for tomorrow. Do you want another coffee?

  No. And you should be resting.

  I feel the need to cut things. Besides, I’m not going to be able to sleep just yet. The memories I’d long denied were too damn close to the surface right now.

  You want me down there to help with the spells?

  No, I’ll be fine.

  Are you sure?

  Yes.

  I walked into the reading room, pushed the table and carpet aside, and then sat cross-legged on the floor. It took a while to repair what my father and Clayton had destroyed but it didn’t leave me as physically drained as it had previously. Perhaps my spelling muscles were getting stronger.

  With that done, I headed into the kitchen. Once I’d scrolled through my music to find a suitably rocky playlist, I spent the next couple of hours preparing tomorrow’s food and singing loudly. It was close to midnight by the time I went to bed, and to say I crashed would be an understatement.

  But that didn’t stop the dreams.

  This time, they weren’t filled with bloodshed.

  Instead, they were warning of smoke and fire.

  * * *

  The café had been open for a good hour the next morning by the time Aiden and Monty arrived to claim their usual corner table. Monty moved like an old man, and his facial bruising had developed into a rich kaleidoscope of color, which made the white tape across the cut on his forehead stand out rather starkly.

  Aiden’s gaze swept me as I approached. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Battered and bruised, but at least I look far better than Monty.”

  “Roadkill looks better than Monty right now,” Aiden commented, amused.

  “Oh, ha ha.” Monty gingerly leaned back in his chair. “I got a call from Ruby this morning—she said they were leaving. I take it they did their session with you last night?”

  “Yes. Do you both want your usual breakfast?”

  “Given the swift change of subject,” Monty said, “I’m gathering the process was unpleasant?”

  “I had to drag up memories I’ve spent close to thirteen years suppressing—what do you think?”

  “I think I would have spent the rest of the evening getting drunk.” He touched my hand lightly. “I’m sorry you had to go through all that, but if it helps stop Clayton—”

  “We’ll know in a few days what they decide. In the meantime, food—yes or no?”

  “When have I ever said no to food? The usual, please.”

  I snorted and glanced at Aiden. “You too?”

  “Just a coffee for me. I ate up in the compound.”

  I nodded and went into the kitchen to place their orders, then leaned against the counter while Belle made their drinks.

  “Are you coming over to the table for a chat?” I asked. “It’s about time you took a break and got off your foot, isn’t it?”

  “The foot’s fine, and I don’t want to give Monty any ideas.” She paused. “Any more ideas, that is.”

  I grinned but held back my comment as she raised a warning finger. Once their coffees and my tea were made, I picked up the tray and returned to the table. I also raised the privacy spell around the table to ensure those nearby couldn’t hear what we were saying.

  “How did your brother’s party go last night?” I asked as I sat down beside Aiden.

  He smiled and slid one hand over my thigh, a gentle caress that had desire curling through me. “As well as any party with a bunch of rowdy fourteen-year-olds could. I’d rather have been here sleeping on the sofa, to be honest.”

  “That’s the sort of comment grumpy old men make,” Monty said, amused.

  I smiled and poured my tea out. “That’s because he is. He’ll be thirty this year, remember.”

  “Positively ancient,” Monty agreed.

  “Says the two people who are, what—a whole year?—behind me.” His voice was dry.

  “Almost a year and a half in my case,” Monty said. “I was always the baby of our group at school. I think that’s why Belle has never taken me seriously—she’s got something against younger men.”

  I smiled. “Aside from the fact you’re my cousin—”

  “Which doesn’t mean squat, because Belle isn’t related to either of us.”

  “We grew up with you. It’s almost the same thing.”

  “Hardly. And growing up together should count for rather than against me. She knows exactly what she’s getting—”

  He stopped as a balled-up piece of paper hit the back of his head and bounced away. He glanced down and then around and blew Belle a kiss. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, her expression one of tolerant amusement.

  I smiled but refrained from saying anything. Not that it really mattered, given Belle was well aware of my thoughts—and gave me a narrow-eyed warning glare to prove it.

  I took a sip of my tea. “So, the Manananggal—Monty and I came up with a couple of ideas on how we might catch this thing.”

  “I’m guessing the first suggestion is to stake out wedding venues for the next couple of days,” Aiden said.

  “Good guess,” Monty said.

  Aiden gave him a deadpan look. “I do do this whole investigating thing for a living.”

  Monty chuckled and thanked Penny as she appeared with his breakfast. “How many weddings are we talking about?”

  “Only three—one tonight, two tomorrow.”

  “I think she’s m
ore likely to attack tonight,” I said. “That quake would have taken a lot of energy—she’d have to replenish her reserves sooner rather than later.”

  “Unless she did so last night,” Monty said. “She may prefer her victims newly married, but that doesn’t mean she can’t feed on anyone else. And the reservation does have a lot of remote properties.”

  “There’s been no reports of missing or murdered persons as yet,” Aiden said.

  “If she went remote, would there be?” Monty asked.

  “There’s nowhere truly remote in a werewolf reservation,” Aiden said. “The scent of blood and death can carry quite a way.”

  “Well, if she didn’t feed last night, she’ll have to tonight.” I reached across the table and stole a bit of bacon from Monty’s plate. He chased my fingers with his fork, his expression one of mock outrage. “How are we going to trap her if we can’t use magic?”

  Aiden frowned. “Why can’t you use magic?”

  “We suspect that’s how she knew we were tracking her—she felt Liz’s spell entwining around her blood.”

  “Which leaves attending the weddings to keep an eye on things as our only real option—especially given the Manananggal has to be tracking her victims via some sort of spell—”

  “Why?” Aiden cut in. “The first victim was attacked when he was alone at the reception.”

  “Which could have been just an unfortunate matter of timing on his part,” Monty said. “He’d been going to check something in the car, remember. Maybe our ghoul was in the process of casting her tracker spell when he made his appearance.”

  Aiden frowned. “Why would she be placing spells on vehicles when she can separate and fly?”

  “I’m guessing because she has to keep her lower body safe when she’s separated—as evidenced by that damn clearing where Liz found the blood.”

  “If that’s the case,” Aiden said. “Then we simply have to watch the cars and grab her before she places the spell.”

  “It might be better to let her place the spell,” I said. “Monty and I can then exchange places with the intended victims and bring this bitch down where there’s less possibility of innocent bystanders getting hurt.”

  “Good idea except for one thing—she’s magic capable,” Monty said. “It’s possible she’ll sense our presence.”

  “How close would she have to get to do that?” Aiden asked.

  Monty shrugged. “She’s obviously a strong witch given what she did on that ridge; it’s totally possible she could sense our presence from quite some distance.”

  “Not if we both shield our magic, surely?” I said.

  “There are some witches who can sense a shield almost as easily as they can magic—and this witch isn’t exactly regular flesh and blood.”

  “Then perhaps it would be better if Liz and I act as bait, and you and my team wait for the Manananggal to appear from a safe distance,” Aiden said. “That should split up the power output and lessen the prospect of her sensing you too early.”

  “It could work.” A devilish glint entered Monty’s eyes. “But you two will need to keep alert. No role playing while on duty, please.”

  “We rarely even kiss when he’s on duty,” I said, voice dry. “So that’s not going to be a problem.”

  “And for good reason.” Aiden’s expression hadn’t changed, but there was a subtle edge in his voice as he added, “People don’t get hurt that way.”

  My eyebrows rose. “That very much sounds like the voice of experience speaking.”

  “Not mine, but a friend’s.” He gently squeezed my thigh. “I vowed to never get caught in the same situation. I’m doing my best to keep that vow—though it’s been a whole lot more difficult of late.”

  ‘Difficult’ is such a romantic word to use, Belle commented, mental tone wry. And why hasn’t he mentioned this before now?

  Because the friend is probably a werewolf, which means it slips into the ‘can’t share with the human’ basket. But hey, at least he did admit it had been more difficult lately. That’s something, right?

  As far as morsels go, it’s pretty poor.

  Given how reticent the damn man is about verbalizing his feelings, I’ll take any morsel I can get. Out loud, I added, “What time does the wedding start?”

  “Ceremony is at four, reception at seven.”

  “She’s unlikely to trouble the ceremony,” Monty said. “Sunlight kills her, remember?”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” I said. “But it’s likely she’ll use a proxy of some kind. She knows we’re onto her now, so she’ll be extra careful.”

  Monty frowned. “Everything I’ve discovered about Manananggals suggest they’re loners by nature—”

  “Given the level of supernatural nasties we’ve been attracting of late,” Aiden cut in, “I don’t think we can rely on this thing following the general script. To be on the safe side, I’ll get Jaz and Mac to tail the bride and groom from their accommodation to the church. I also think you should be there, Monty—you are the reservation witch, after all.”

  “I like the way you remember that fact only when it suits you.” Monty’s voice was dry. “Do we know where they’re staying the night?”

  “In one of the cottages in the venue’s grounds—it’s a winery.”

  “Are there guests in the other cottages?”

  “The bride’s parents, who are up from Melbourne, and some interstate guests.”

  I frowned. “So how is our ghoul going to find her victims? Putting a tracker on the car is one thing, but that’s not going to help her once she’s at the venue. It’s not like being newly married has a specific scent.”

  “Actually,” Aiden said, “it does. It’s generally a heady mix of sexual pheromones, thick desire, love, and excitement.”

  “Is that why werewolf weddings tend to be held within compounds?” Monty said. “The scent gets everyone high and shenanigans ensue?”

  “Let’s just say that there’s often more than one relationship cemented at a wedding.” Aiden raised his coffee, but it failed to hide the amusement flirting with his lips. “But back to the topic—I’ll arrange for the guests in the other cabins to be evacuated—”

  “Have emergency accommodation at the ready, by all means,” Monty cut in, “but don’t make the final decision until we know what kind of spell she—or her proxy—puts on the vehicle.”

  I frowned. “How is that going to help?”

  “Because there’re spells that can be passed from an object to a person on touch,” Monty said. “Although if that’s what she’s using, we’ll have to make sure one of you snares it rather than the couple.”

  “Which means Liz and I will also have to be at the ceremony.” Aiden glanced at me. “I’ll pick you up around three forty-five.”

  Obviously, the church was a local one. I nodded and quickly finished the rest of my tea. “I’d better get back to work.”

  Aiden squeezed my leg and then released me. I rose, picked up my mug and the teapot, then dumped both into the kitchen before moving around the counter to help Belle with the cake and coffee orders.

  The rest of the day passed reasonably quickly. I sent Belle upstairs to rest her ankle once the lunch influx had eased and spent the rest of the afternoon doing some food prep. Penny and Celia handled the cleanup while I dashed upstairs to change clothes. We might do nothing more than sit in the truck, but on the off chance that we did have to get out, I didn’t want to look out of place. By the same token, I didn’t want to be running after the Manananggal in a dress and high heels.

  “Go with the black pants.” Belle crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Team it with that green shirt, and you’re good to go.”

  “Thanks.” I glanced at her. “What are your plans for the evening?”

  “I might go through the books we have here and see if Gran had any spells that’ll protect the café from Clayton. I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to destroy this place before he tries the same
on us.”

  The memory of fiery dreams rose, and alarm prickled across my skin. “It might be also worth looking into stronger flame-retardant spells.”

  “I’m gathering that’s not a random comment.”

  I grimaced. “No, but I couldn’t actually see what was burning.”

  “Your dreams are damned annoying sometimes.”

  “And yet they’re still nowhere near as bad as your spirit guides.” I paused. “I don’t suppose they’ve had anything to say about the Manananggal, have they? Or even Clayton?”

  “Other than saying it’s best to avoid them both? No.”

  I snorted softly and shoved my feet into my shoes. “I’d better go wait for Aiden.”

  Belle pushed away from the door. “Be careful out there tonight. There’s an ill wind blowing, and that usually means trouble is about to hit.”

  “I don’t think there’s any doubt about that.” But I also didn’t think it would come from the Manananggal. Not tonight, anyway.

  Of course, I’d been wrong before, which was why I detoured into the reading room to pick up the backpack before heading out to meet Aiden.

  He pulled up in front of the café and then leaned across to open the passenger door. “You look rather nice this afternoon.”

  “Meaning I normally don’t?” I climbed in and buckled up.

  “Maybe I should have said extra nice.”

  “I figured it wouldn’t hurt if, for some reason, we had to go mingle with guests.” I glanced at him as he pulled out into the traffic. He’d changed out of his ranger gear and was wearing black pants and a dark blue shirt that emphasized the color of his eyes. “Looks like I wasn’t alone in thinking that. The shoulder holster does spoil the look, however.”

  “The jacket will cover it. How close do you need to be to feel the spell being placed?”

  “Monty will probably feel the magic easier than me, but if she’s using a proxy of some sort we may not sense anything. It’ll depend entirely on what sort of spell she’s using.”

  “And the proxy? Do we need to do anything about him or her?”

  “If we stop them—or attempt to de-spell them—it might well warn the Manananggal. We’re better off grabbing a photo of them for identification purposes, so we can find them again once we’ve caught our ghoul.”