by Arthur, Keri
Which still left the non-local. I thrust a hand through my hair and tried to keep a grip on rising panic—but it was damn hard given Canberra was little more than six hundred and sixty kilometers away. That was only a seven-hour drive if you didn’t stop.
It was very possible Clayton was already in the reservation.
“Have they put a warrant out on him?”
“Of course not.” Her voice remained sharp. “There’s currently no evidence of his involvement—nothing other than your psychic certainty, anyway, and I’m afraid no court will process a warrant based on a precognitive dream.”
That, unfortunately, was very true. “I know you don’t place much faith in psychic talents—”
“With good reason, given few practitioners have your strength.”
She hadn’t ever considered mine a strength, and I had to wonder what had changed her mind. Was she now aware of my affinity with the wild magic? Was that what this was all about?
“It still might be worthwhile to find a psychometry-registered psychic,” I said. “They could do a location search.”
“Perhaps.” Meaning I shouldn’t hold my breath waiting for that to happen. “However, I’m more than willing to send something of his down to you, if it would be at all useful.”
Surprise rippled through me—at both the offer and the fact that she had access to his house. “It would, but it’d have to be something that he wore regularly.”
“Would a watch do?”
“That would be perfect.”
“I’ll arrange for it to be delivered posthaste.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t want to lose another daughter, Elizabeth, no matter how strained our relationship is. I might not believe Clayton capable of violence, but I will do what I can to aid you.”
If she really wanted to aid me, she could have called in the full force of the High Witch Council. She certainly had the clout to do it. But I guess that no matter how much respect Clayton might have lost recently, he would always be given the benefit of the doubt because of his long term status as a powerful, influential witch. Few would act against him without definite proof.
“Thank you,” I repeated.
“I’ll let you know what your father says when he wakes.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “don’t bother,” if only because it’d probably be all over by the time that happened. But she was at least being civil, and I could do no less. “That would be appreciated.”
She hesitated. “Your brother would like to contact you—”
“Why?”
“You’re the only sibling he has left—does he really need another reason?”
“Think back, Mother—were we ever close?”
“Well, no, but things change—”
“Things like the possibility of my being able to use wild magic, perhaps?”
There was a long pause. “Your father did mention it, Elizabeth, but it’s not—”
“Like hell it isn’t. The answer is no. Goodnight, Mother.”
I hung up and took a deep, frustrated breath. It was always about the power with my family. Always.
A whiskey on ice appeared in front of my nose, and I took it with a grateful sigh. “You know, for years I dreamed of having the sort of power that would make me acceptable to my family. Now that the possibility is there, I’m realizing just how goddamn stupid that dream was. I don’t want them in my life. I don’t even like them.”
Belle plopped down on the chair opposite. “They’ll never change. You know this.”
I did, but it had never stopped the dreams of the inner child.
But meeting my father—and talking to my mother—as an adult certainly had.
“Families sometimes aren’t the ones you’re born into, but rather the ones you make,” Belle said. “I think we’ve gotten ourselves a pretty damn fine one here.”
I lightly clinked my glass against hers. “They’re not the problem at the moment. Clayton is.”
“If he disappeared yesterday, then it’s likely he’s already in the reservation.”
“Yes, and that means we have to put plan B into action.”
“I’m not staying at Émigré. I don’t trust her not to take an uninvited bite or two.”
“She won’t—she gave her word to the council, remember.”
Belle snorted. “Like you can trust the word of a vampire.”
“In this case, I think we can—if only because she owes us a favor and wants it put behind her.”
“So she can nibble on us later,” Belle said gloomily.
A smile twitched my lips. “Possibly. Doesn’t alter the fact that it’s far safer than here. As I said before, I doubt even Clayton is mad enough to tackle a vampire’s abode.”
“After what happened in Wodonga, I wouldn’t bet on that.”
Neither would I, actually. “Please, Belle, you’ve more chance being safe there than here.”
“And what if he decides to attack us here during the day?”
“He won’t, because there’ll be too many witnesses.”
“Given he doesn’t appear to be thinking logically, witnesses aren’t a watertight guarantee of safety.”
“I know, but I still don’t think he will.”
She sighed and drank her whiskey. “Fine. But if she decides to dine on me, I won’t be happy.”
“She wants to dine on me. You, she wants to fuck.”
“That does not make me feel any better.” She waved a hand. “Just do it.”
I grinned and made the call.
“Lizzie Grace,” Roger said in an effusive manner. “To what do we owe this honor?”
“You’re in a rather good mood tonight—is there any particular reason?”
“It’s the radiance that comes from the mistress feeding.”
“Belle will be extremely happy to hear that.”
“And why would that be so?”
“Remember the favor I’m owed? I’m calling it in.”
“Indeed? I shall hand you over to her.” There was a pause, and then Maelle said, “And what is it you wish of me?”
“You know that man I mentioned?”
“Indeed.”
“Well, he’s either in the reservation or on his way.”
“And you wish me to hunt him down? Because I cannot take life in this place unless personally threatened—it would jeopardize my position here.”
“No, I’d actually like you to keep Belle safe at Émigré.”
“Is that all?”
“It’s not a simple task, Maelle. The man we’re talking about is a blueblood witch of high power—and he’ll go after Belle in order to get to me.”
“He wouldn’t dare attack my lair.”
“If he was in his right mind, I’d agree. He’s not. You’ll need full defenses.”
“Full defense might well alert the other witches in this reservation. I prefer to avoid that if necessary.”
A statement that was yet another confirmation she was capable of darker magic.
Sometime in the future, we’d be confronted by it.
Fear knifed through me, even if it was pretty pointless worrying about a future battle when I still had to survive the current one.
“As long as you keep her safe, I really don’t care what you do or don’t use.”
“And when am I to expect her?”
“Is tonight too soon?”
“Yes, it fucking is,” Belle muttered, her expression a mix of resignation and trepidation.
“That will be fine. Roger is preparing a room as we speak.” She paused, and then continued with evident amusement, “Please assure her that it will be a private bedchamber. No sharing of any kind required.”
“She’s positively ecstatic to hear that.”
“As she should be—there are not many who stay here who can claim that.”
People stay there? Belle said. Why on earth would anyone want to do that?
Perhaps she’s referring to
her feeders.
None of the feeders who were killed lived within Émigré’s walls. If they had, there’s every chance they’d still be alive.
I sipped the whiskey. I don’t think she’s referring to her regular feeders.
Then who? Belle said, even as Maelle added, “What time shall I expect her?”
Eleven. I’m not getting there any earlier than damn necessary.
I repeated the time to Maelle.
“Excellent,” she said. “Roger will take her through to the accommodation wing.”
“Thanks, Maelle.”
“It is entirely my pleasure.”
“I’m not liking the sound of that last comment,” Belle muttered, as I hung up. “And wing? How can there be an accommodation wing on a building that’s basically square?”
“Either she’s purchased the buildings on either side or she means the basement. I suspect the former, given the escape route from her aerie.”
She took another drink. “It’s one thing for me to go into hiding, but what are you going to do? You can’t stay at Aiden’s—you’re both far too vulnerable there.”
“I know.” I lightly swirled the whiskey around in my glass. “But I think I’ll be safe enough here, as long as you’re elsewhere.”
“‘Think’ isn’t a reassuring term, you know. And if he can’t find me, he may just concentrate all his viciousness on you—and trust me, you don’t have to be a telepath to know he intends to take what we denied him thirteen years ago.”
The memory of his weight on me as his cold hands tore at me rose. I shuddered and gulped down the whiskey, but it did little to burn the memories away. “I don’t think he’ll attack me directly. Not until he has a means of ensuring my compliance—either via you or maybe even Aiden.”
“Aiden should be safe enough at the compound, but he won’t be there twenty-four seven. He’ll insist on continuing to work.”
“Of course I will.” The bell above the door chimed merrily as he stepped through. “Why is this suddenly a problem?”
I rose and met him halfway across the room. After a long kiss hello, I said, “It makes it easier for Clayton to snare you.”
He tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers warm against my skin. “Clayton doesn’t scare me.”
“He should.”
“Over the last few months, I’ve had to deal with all manner of powerfully evil supernatural entities.” His voice was dry, his eyes warm. “A witch hell-bent on revenge seems mild by comparison.”
“You won’t think that if he gets his mitts on you.”
“I’m more worried about him getting his mitts on you and Belle. What are we doing to counter that?”
“Belle’s going into hiding.”
“Rather reluctantly,” Belle said. “You staying for coffee, Ranger?”
“Love to, but I’m on my way to another council meeting.”
“Then I’ll put it in Liz’s travel cup. Just make sure you return it, otherwise she’ll get grumpy.”
He grinned. “I can handle her grumpy.”
“Just as well, considering you’re going to be living together.”
I moved back to the table and sat down. Aiden followed me across. “Why is she going into hiding rather than staying here? I was under the impression neither he nor your father were able to break through all the protections here.”
“Only because they didn’t know about the wild magic,” I replied. “That’s now changed.”
“They attacked the place twice—if they’d been able to do something about the wild magic, wouldn’t they have done it the second time?”
“They wouldn’t have had time to do the research then, but Clayton now has.”
“I was under the impression wild magic couldn’t be countered.”
“It generally can’t be controlled, but we’ve always been able to contain and protect it.”
He accepted the coffee Belle handed him with a nod of thanks. “Which means it’s no safer here for you—and yet I take it you’re not intending to hide?”
“No, because I also believe that he’ll only come after me as a last resort—and if he can’t get Belle, he’ll go after you. Which is why I’d like you to stay at the compound for the next few nights.”
“I’d rather stay here and protect you.”
“That’s not really wise—”
“Why not? Between my gun and your magic, I’m thinking we stand a very good chance of taking the bastard down.”
“You’re overestimating my magic.”
“You’re underestimating it.”
“Actually,” Belle said, “he does have a point. Even Clayton can’t out-spell the speed of a bullet.”
It’d also make me feel a whole lot better if you weren’t alone here.
“Fine.” I gulped down some whiskey. “What time is the meeting?”
“Ten minutes—why?”
“Give me your charm—I want to weave through another spell that’ll warn you of an incoming magical attack.”
He immediately handed it to me. The multiple threads of protection magic I’d already woven through the basic copper and leather necklace pulsed, sending a ripple of rainbow energy spiraling through the café. It might not stand up against a full-on assault from a witch as powerful as Clayton for very long, but it would stand.
I quickly threaded the warning spell through the outer protection layers, activated it, and then handed it back. “It’ll begin to pulse if there’s an imminent threat—the stronger the pulse, the closer the threat.”
“Good.” He leaned forward and kissed me. “Be back soon.”
“All our measures so far have centered on prevention,” Belle said once he’d left. “What we haven’t discussed is how we’re actually going to deal with the bastard once he does attack.”
“That’s because what we do depends entirely on what he does.” I picked up my glass and finished the whiskey. “Given he’s undoubtedly behind the shooting of my father, it’s very possible he’s also decided to get his revenge on us the old-fashioned way—especially given the shooter wasn’t caught.”
“You don’t believe that. You can’t. Not after seeing his demeanor in Wodonga.”
“Maybe, but I didn’t actually think he’d resort to shooting my father, either.”
Belle was silent for a moment, then her gaze met mine and she said softly, “If it came down to it, could you kill him?”
“Without a moment’s hesitation.” Especially if it came down to a choice of his life or that of anyone I cared about.
“Taking his life won’t be the same as taking the life of a demon. It’ll have deeper ramifications.”
I knew she meant personal ramifications more than rule of law. “Then I’ll go to a psych and deal with them. I will not allow him to take any more of my life or my time, Belle. He’s already taken far too much from both of us.”
“Amen to that.” She clicked her glass against my empty one. “Hopefully, it won’t come down to that choice.”
“Hopefully.”
But even as I said it, I knew the chances were low. There was only one way this was going to end, and that was with one of us dead.
* * *
Aiden had left for work the next morning by the time Belle returned, which was probably just as well, as I wasn’t in the mood to answer any questions about where she’d been. Not when my dreams had been filled with warnings of looming death and destruction. Of fire and smoke and distant, insubstantial glimpses of charcoaled wall struts that were impossible to identify and yet left me terrified.
“Well,” I said, as she walked in. “How was it?”
She shuddered. “The Addams Family has nothing on her inner sanctum, let me tell you.”
I smiled and slid a cappuccino across to her. “Meaning she has all manner of ‘Things’ crawling around the place?”
“Well, I didn’t spot any creepy crawly hands, but there were certainly plenty of weird noises—cracking whips and clinking chain
s—all accompanied by a chorus of groans, moans, and shrieks.” She took a quick drink and licked the froth from her lips. “I swear she’s running an underground BDSM den of some kind.”
“Anything is possible with Maelle, though it’d be hard to keep something like that secret given the power and reach of the gossip brigade.”
“Unless she’s not catering to locals but rather outsiders. It wouldn’t be hard to conceal the comings and goings of her patrons, given this whole reservation survives on tourism.”
True. And a BDSM den certainly seemed a more appropriate business than a dance club for someone with Maelle’s dark energy. “Were there any problems?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t even see Maelle. Roger escorted me to my room—which thankfully had its own en suite, so I didn’t have to leave said room—and reappeared once I was awake and showered to escort me out.”
“Was the room located underground?”
“We certainly accessed the area from the basement, but I couldn’t be certain where we went from there. There was some sort of weird veil that confused the senses.”
Unease prickled down my spine. “Magic?”
She nodded. “And powerful enough to disorientate. I honestly couldn’t have said whether I was in the same building or not. I certainly couldn’t hear the music, which was weird given I could hear all the other stuff.”
It sounded like some sort of transport spell—but was something like that even possible? And if it was, then why wasn’t Canberra using it? Surely it’d be easier to magically change locations rather than hopping on a plane or driving for hours to get somewhere. “You okay with going back?”
“I’d rather not, but if it has that effect on me, then it’s likely to have the same effect on Clayton—if he gets that far, that is.” She grimaced. “I just wish the room had better soundproofing.”
“Earplugs might solve that problem.”
“That and a knockout potion.” She scrubbed a hand across her eyes. “If I fall asleep in the middle of service today, at least you’ll know why.”
Thankfully, we weren’t all that busy, no doubt due in part to the bitter storm that hit right before lunchtime. Belle headed upstairs around one for a nana nap while Penny and I looked after the few brave souls who came in despite the torrential downpour.