“We’re talking about a creature that supposedly has no bottom half, so I think odd is a given.” The amusement was clearer in Mac’s tone this time.
“Where does the scent trail lead?” Aiden asked. “Into the scrub or down into the valley?”
“Former. I tracked it as far as the boundary but no further.” He shot me another look. “Was the creature simply spooked by the couple’s actions, or does salt really work against something like this?”
“Salt—pure salt—is a deterrent against most supernatural beings, though it’s better used in a protection circle or as a barrier against entry in doorways and windows.”
“Huh.” Mac’s gaze switched to Aiden. “Which means it might make sense for us to add a permanent tub of the stuff to our kits, boss.”
“Ask Maggie to get onto it tomorrow.”
Other voices were now audible. One was Jaz, another ranger who’d only recently moved into the reservation after marrying into the Marin pack. The other was most likely the woman whose love of ghost-hunting TV shows had probably saved the lives of her partner and her.
We walked around the rear of the building but didn’t head toward the still-open French doors. Instead, Mac leapt off the veranda and strode across to a stone path that wound its way up through a garden filled with trimmed roses and deciduous trees.
The rear fence was a weatherworn and hip-height picket; beyond it lay trees and scrub. I drew in a breath and caught a vaguely odorous scent that reminded me of death and decay.
“I’ll take the lead,” Aiden said. “Mac, rear point. Liz, if anything tweaks your senses, let me know.”
I nodded and tried to ignore the tension gathering within. The small gate creaked as Aiden opened it, the sharp sound echoing across the stillness of the night. Which, more than anything, pointed to the presence of evil having slipped past here not that long ago. Night creatures were far more sensitive to all things supernatural than most humans; the fact that even the possums weren’t moving about spoke to the foulness of this thing.
The hill soon steepened dramatically, and my legs began to burn. As my breathing became harsher, Aiden caught my hand and tugged me on. I wasn’t entirely sure it helped, but at least it meant I wasn’t slowing them down too much.
The tree line thinned out as we neared the top of the ridge, and stars gleamed in skies only partially covered by clouds. Aiden paused, his gaze searching the tree-lined valley below us, while I rested my hands on my knees and sucked in air. Fit I was not, even though I’d recently started intermittent jogging—though not in any way to lose weight, as I was perfectly happy just as I was. Of course, my definition of intermittent differed wildly from Aiden’s, which was why I tended to do it mostly on the days I stayed home. Belle was a far more patient and understanding jogging partner—mainly because she didn’t feel obliged to stay by my side the entire time, which in turn meant I could not only stretch out the running intervals but also shorten the time spent running. Although it had to be said, jogging wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. My muscles certainly recovered faster than I’d ever presumed they would.
Mac stopped beside Aiden, his hands on his hips and frustration evident. “The trail’s gone cold.”
“Yes.” Aiden glanced at me. “Are you getting anything on either a psychic or magical level?”
“Not a glimmer.” I pushed upright and studied the valley below. “I don’t suppose there’s an old graveyard down there somewhere, is there?”
“No.” He drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “I guess we’ve no choice—”
“There is Barnett’s farm,” Mac cut in. “It’s on the far side of this valley, I know, but they do have a family burial plot on their land.”
I frowned. “I didn’t think it was legal to bury people outside a public cemetery? Or does the rule differ in the reservation?”
“Only to some extent,” Aiden said. “Every pack has burial grounds within their compounds, but humans still need approval from the appropriate department to bury on private land. Even then, it’s usually only granted if there’re prior burials on the site.”
“In the Barnetts’ case, there’re five generations buried there,” Mac said. “Is that a big enough graveyard to attract something like this?”
I shrugged. “I can’t really say for sure, given I have no real idea what we’re dealing with.”
“Meaning it is worth checking,” Aiden said. “We’ll head back down and drive over.”
“Good, because you weren’t ever going to get me to walk over.”
Aiden chuckled and pressed a hand to my spine, gently ushering me back to the path. Though it was easier going down, it still took nearly half an hour to return to the house.
Aiden motioned me toward his truck and then walked inside to talk to Jaz. I opened the passenger door but didn’t immediately climb in, instead studying the surrounding night as awareness prickled across my skin. My watcher was once again out there.
I hesitated, one hand clenched against the need to raise some form of defensive or even tracking spell. If my watcher was Clayton, then nothing I did would matter. If it wasn’t, then he’d most likely be protected against any spell I could raise. Or, at least, any spell that didn’t involve the wild magic.
That suggests you’re not carrying Ashworth’s diversion charm on you, Belle said, mental tone annoyed.
No. Totally forgot about it.
Then I’ll make sure you shove it in your purse when you get home.
Footsteps approached. I half turned and watched Aiden stride toward me.
“What’s wrong?” he immediately said.
“Nothing.” I hesitated. “Can you smell anyone nearby?”
He raised an eyebrow but flared his nostrils, drawing in a deep breath. After a moment, he shook his head. “No—why?”
I shrugged. “It’s probably just imagination—”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned over these past few months, it’s that when you say it’s probably your imagination, it’s not. So give.”
I grimaced and climbed into the
