Ruby shuffled the paperwork back into her briefcase, then picked it up. “We shall get going. I prefer to scout the area a little before choosing a suitable—”
“Take Belle with you,” I cut in. “She’s my familiar, and I’d rather keep her out of Clayton’s way.”
“And why is that?” Jenna studied me through narrowed eyes. Though I couldn’t feel the caress of magic or any step into my thoughts, I nevertheless had the feeling she was pulling forth secrets.
She won’t get far, Belle said. Not while I’m here.
You won’t be able to help me shield when she does her truth-seeking thing.
I know, but right now, she doesn’t need to know all the gritty details. To Jenna, she added, “I placed a spell on him when I rescued Lizzie. Clayton is a man who doesn’t like being bested, especially by a low-class witch like myself.”
A small smile touched Jenna’s lips. “That is indeed true.”
“And makes this investigation a whole lot more interesting,” Ruby said. “Come along, my dear.”
With that, they turned and left. Belle raised an eyebrow at their abrupt departure, but nevertheless followed.
I glanced at Ashworth. “I’m guessing they hired a car at the airport?”
His smile crinkled the corners of his muddy silver eyes. “Broomsticks went out with the Dark Ages, lass.”
“There was talk of a mechanical version a century or so ago—I saw the plans for it when I was working in the archives. It never got off the ground though.” As our joint groans filled the air, Monty glanced at his watch. “We’ve got ten minutes before we need to leave. What’s the plan?”
“I think it’s better to go in with no plan,” Eli said. He leaned against the wall, his thick salt-and-pepper hair gleaming in the room’s light but his blue eyes deeply shadowed. “And definitely no magic at the ready. We’re there as backup and witnesses. If we go in defensive, they’ll react in kind. That’s a situation that could get ugly all too quickly—and play in their favor when this gets to the courts.”
“If it gets to the courts,” I muttered.
Ashworth squeezed my arm. “The Society is confident they can follow this through to the end. Shall we go?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just led the way out. His truck was parked next to Monty’s borrowed car.
“I think it best if we all park out on the street and use the front door—there’s not much maneuvering room in the café’s back hallway if things immediately go to hell,” he added. “Is Aiden going to meet us there?”
“Yes. I’ve just got to send him a text.”
Which I did once I’d climbed into Monty’s borrowed wagon. It didn’t take us long to get back to the café, where we were once again greeted by the shattered remnants of our protection spells floating on the breeze.
“Well, fuck,” Monty said. “So much for thinking my alarm spell would give us advance warning.”
“You’re dealing with two of the strongest witches in Canberra,” I said. “Don’t feel bad.”
“I don’t. I’m just pissed off—I was assured that spell would work no matter how strong the witch it was warding against.”
“It doesn’t really matter now.” My gaze was on the open front door. It was an invitation to enter—one we couldn’t really refuse. “Park up the road. We’ll walk down.”
As Monty obeyed and Ashworth stopped behind us, Aiden appeared. He opened my door and offered me his hand. I gripped it tightly and let him help me out. But as much as I wanted to hang on to him, I couldn’t. I had no doubt Clayton and my father were watching us, and I wasn’t about to give them any more ammunition than they’d already collected when it came to my private life.
“What’s the plan?” His gaze swept the four of us. “Where’s Belle?”
“Safe with the auditor.”
“Ah. Good.”
“Let’s go, lass,” Ashworth said softly. “Better to get this all over with sooner rather than later.”
“I’m not entirely sure I agree with that statement.”
But I nevertheless activated the listening device, then slung the pack over my shoulder and strode down toward the café.
The four men followed me, their steps echoing with purpose and strength. It should have comforted me. It didn’t.
I neared the door but didn’t alter my pace; if I faltered now—in any way—I’d end up running. The time for that was over.
The café’s lights were all on, and in their warm glow the shattered remnants of our protection spells were very visible. The threads that contained the wild magic did at least remain intact, and I wondered why, given they’d probably had plenty of time to utterly strip all protections from the café. It did at least mean that with those strands still active, we still had some protection against any move my father and Clayton might make.
The two of them were sitting at a table in the middle of the room. They were both tall and somewhat slender, with silver eyes that gleamed coldly even under the warmth of the lights. Both could be termed handsome men, though Clayton’s face was deeply etched with lines that hadn’t been there twelve years ago. The sheer force of their joint power oozed through the room and snatched my breath.
But only Clayton’s aura ran with black and purple.
He was deeply, disturbingly furious.
My steps faltered.
Not because of what I saw in him, but rather what I felt in me. I’d expected fear. I’d expected panic. I’d expected that the mere sight of him would have me reverting to the frightened sixteen-year-old who had no means of fighting the man tearing at her clothes and bruising her flesh.
What I hadn’t expected was the deep and utter rage.
Only it wasn’t aimed at Clayton.
It was aimed at my father.
Chapter Seven
That rage rolled over me, a red wave so strong I couldn’t have combatted it even if I’d wanted to. It fueled me, strengthened me, swept away thought and fear and
