You can’t risk partial coverage, Belle commented. Not when we haven’t a clue how or when the bastard will make his grand appearance.
Agreed. I pushed upright and walked around the room. Eamon took a half-hearted swipe at me as I passed his sofa. “Is the spell covering movement? Is there any accidental leakage?”
“None. It’s bloody brilliant.” He took another sip of coffee, his eyes slightly narrowed as he continued to study me. “I guess the next question is, how easy will it be to drop if you do need to use the wild magic? Or did you weave in an exception to allow that?”
“I didn’t, but I could easily enough. I might just see how long this spell lasts first, though.”
He nodded. “Once you’re used to its presence, you can start honing the technique and adding exceptions.”
And then pray like hell that it works in the presence of someone as powerful as Clayton, Belle said.
If it doesn’t, then the game is over before it starts. And that was something I certainly didn’t want to think about right now. Hadn’t you better go get glammed up for your date?
Just about to. Oh, and don’t forget to stop at the bottle shop on the way home.
That’s the one thing I won’t forget. Not when we’d used the last of the Glenfiddich in the Irish coffees we’d made last night—a fact that had horrified Ashworth, the Regional Witch Association representative who’d come here to investigate a murder and had not only decided to stay, but was now the closest thing to a grandfather I had. His horror over the ‘waste’ of such fine whiskey didn’t stop him and Eli—his husband, and a retired RWA witch—from partaking in quite a few, however.
I picked up my cup and drank the remainder of the coffee. “Are you going out tonight?”
Monty nodded. “Got an invite to that new restaurant that’s opening in Argyle.”
I gave him a long look. “Why do I suspect it isn’t a coincidence that you and Belle are going to the same event?”
“Because you’re always reading a devious intent behind any action I might take when it comes to her. And while it generally is the case, this time I was actually invited out by a rather lovely young woman.”
I raised my eyebrows. “And do I know this paragon?”
“Probably not, as she’s only new in town. I literally ran into her just over a week ago at the supermarket.”
“And as a thank-you, she invited you to an exclusive evening?”
My disbelief was evident, and he grinned. “I think it safe to say she was bowled over by my charm.”
I snorted. “I take it you’ve already been out with her?”
He nodded. “Her brother is the restaurant’s owner, and she came up from Melbourne for a few weeks to help out.”
“So, what was she doing in Castle Rock?”
“She wasn’t. I was down there.” He grimaced. “I’d been investigating the wedding reception murder at the Lake House and—”
“Murder?” I cut in. “I thought the groom had had a heart attack?”
“That’s what his poor bride initially thought, but the ambulance crew discovered otherwise and called Aiden.”
“I take it an autopsy has been performed?”
He nodded. “It revealed he’d lost all his blood and his heart was missing.”
I blinked. “How?”
“Via a cut under his ribs, apparently.”
“How big was the damn cut?”
“Tiny.”
“Then how—”
“We have no idea,” he cut in. “If it happens again, I’ve suggested they bring you in. You might be able to pull something useful from the poor sod’s memories.”
“Only if his death is fresh.”
The brain didn’t die the minute the heart stopped—generally, there was up to a six-minute window of brain viability in which memories could be read. After that, deterioration began. But even within that window there were some levels of memory that could be affected, particularly short term. In the past, reading the minds of the dead had provided vital clues about the killer, though it wasn’t without cost or dangers. There were plenty of stories around about psychics being ensnared by death while psychically connected to the mind of another, and it wasn’t something I wanted to risk too often.
“Fresh or not,” Monty said, “your other psychic senses might pick up something Aiden and I missed.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Once upon a time, you would never have admitted my psi skills were useful.”
“Yeah, but I was young and dumb back then.”
My smile grew. “So, do you think we’re dealing with some sort of vampire?”
He hesitated. “The typical vampire bite mark was absent, but the whole ‘no blood’ thing does tend to indicate a bloodsucker of some kind.”
“The kind that apparently also has a liking for hearts.” I shuddered at the thought. “At least that should narrow down the search parameters.”
“One would think so, but my research has so far revealed a surprising number of supernatural beasties that like their blood with a bit of human heart on the side.”
“Then let’s hope it’s nothing more than a top-up feeding and the creature behind it has long gone.”
Monty snorted as he climbed to his feet. He was tall and well-built, with bright silver eyes and short crimson hair that gleamed like dark fire. “In this reservation? Unlikely.”
Which was a sad but true statement, thanks to the fact the reservation’s largest wellspring had been left unguarded for entirely too long. While wellsprings—and the wild magic that emanated from them—were neither good nor bad, an unprotected one would always draw evil. The larger wellspring might now be fully protected, but the waves of its power would still be echoing through the darker places of this world. It could be years before the reservation stopped being the spirit world’s number-one vacation spot.
I followed Monty into the kitchen and dumped my cup in the sink. “I’d better get going so you can get spruced up for your date.”
“You’re not going?” he said, surprise evident in his voice. “I thought Aiden, as head ranger, would be invited for sure. Most of the local dignitaries are going to be there.”
“He
