He snorted. “You don’t scare me, witch.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really? I take it, then, that you’ve been given some form of protection against certain types of magic?”
This time, he controlled his emotions far better. There was barely a flicker to indicate my guess had hit the mark.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That so? How, then, do you think we found you?”
He shrugged. “Your ranger friend is a wolf—they’re good trackers.”
“But not so good that they can follow someone in a speeding truck at a distance of several kilometers.”
“I can’t see your point—”
“The point,” Aiden said, as he came back out, “is that you’ve got a tracking spell on you.”
“That’s impossible—”
“Says who? Oh, and don’t bother with any more screams for help. The owner and patrons have been informed of the situation.”
“And they’ll be my witnesses when I sue your ass for false arrest and imprisonment.”
Aiden smiled. “Oh, I don’t think it’ll get to that. Liz, do you want to check him?”
“Check me for what?” the stranger said, his voice indignant. “What the hell do you think I’m carrying?”
“Protection.” I stepped to one side of the chair—out of feet range—and held my hand an inch or so above his body as I checked him from head to foot. It was only when I got to his boots that I felt the sting of magic. It wasn’t Clayton’s—aside from the fact it felt generic, it held none of his bite. I guess that was unsurprising—Clayton had been caught flat-footed once. I doubt he’d underestimate us a second time, and that meant he would not put his magical ‘mark’ on anything that could be traced back to him—not until he was ready to confront me, anyway.
It also explained why the tracker had stuck—the spell hadn’t been designed to ward off something so simple.
I stepped back. “It’s in his boot.”
“Left or right?” Aiden said.
The stranger unwisely chose that moment to lash out with both tied feet. Aiden jumped back, then calmly grabbed the offending feet and upended him. As the stranger crashed back onto the grass and began uttering yet another string of curses, Aiden ripped off his boots and handed them to me.
I tipped them upside down; two small disks dropped onto the ground. The threads were pale and pulsed with a low-grade energy that definitely didn’t belong to any blueblood I knew.
Which didn’t actually make me feel any easier. As I crushed them under my boot, Aiden said, “Right, are you going to cooperate?”
“Give me my phone call and a damn lawyer, and I might consider it,” the stranger growled.
Aiden stepped back and waved elegantly toward our prisoner. “He’s all yours.”
I took a deep breath to center my energy and then began to spell as I slowly circled the prone stranger. I’d left the backpack—and my spell stones—back in the truck, and the metal chair wasn’t really an appropriate anchor. It left me with no choice but to keep the spell open-ended, even as I activated it. That was never an ideal situation, but in this case, with him moving around so much, it at least gave me the option of pushing more energy and ‘force’ into the truth spell.
“Right,” I said, as the spell’s force pulsed through me. “He’s ready to be questioned.”
“No, he’s fucking not,” the stranger growled. “This has gone far enough—”
“Give me your name and pack,” Aiden cut in.
The stranger’s mouth opened and then closed several times, but in the end he couldn’t escape the force of the spell.
“James O’Conner, Black Valley.”
I frowned. “Where the hell is the Black Valley?”
“Ireland,” Aiden said. “Why were you following us?”
Again he fought the press of the truth spell. Again he failed. “I was employed to follow the witch and photograph everyone she interacts with.”
My gut clenched. I’d been right to fear Clayton might well target everyone else to get to me. “How long have you been doing that?”
“Five days.”
Meaning a few days longer than I’d been sensing him. Fuck. “And have you been doing daily reports?”
“Yes, and being paid daily. You bastards will have no doubt cost me tonight’s fee.”
“Money will be the least of your problems when you’re in jail,” Aiden said, voice dry. “What’s the name of the man who employed you?”
He bared his teeth, fighting the compulsion to reply, but in the end had no choice. “I don’t know his full name. I was only given the first—Lawrence.”
My heart stuttered to a brief halt and then broke into a gallop.
It wasn’t only my husband here in the reservation. It was my goddamn father as well.
Chapter Six
My knees buckled, and I would have hit the ground if Aiden hadn’t lunged forward fast enough to catch me.
“Liz?” he said. “What’s wrong?”
I didn’t immediately answer. Couldn’t immediately answer. I just sucked in air and tried to get the panic and fear under control. But not all of it was mine. Some of it was Belle’s—her fuck, fuck, fuck, was a refrain that ran through the outer reaches of my mind, thick with the same fear that pulsed through me.
And with good reason—Clayton and my father were two of the strongest witches in Canberra. The combined might of Ashworth, Eli, and Monty might have been able to contain Clayton, but it was doubtful there’d be any such hope now that my father was also here.
You need to get out, Belle. You need to hide somewhere.
There is nowhere safe to run, Liz. Not now. Not when he’s had the time to track all our movements and now knows who we interact with.
So grab a taxi and disappear. The sooner the better.
Me leaving this reservation weakens you. I can’t and won’t do that.
“Lizzie?” Aiden repeated. “Speak to me.”
“My father’s name is Lawrence,” I croaked. “And that means he’s here with Clayton.”
“Are you sure?” Aiden said. “Lawrence isn’t exactly a rare name.”
“I’m sure.” Even so, I pushed away from his arms and said to James, “Describe this man
