Yeah. I wiped a hand across my cheek; my fingers came away smeared with red. The cut wasn’t gushing, so at least that was something. I raised the small vial and saw there was a little bit of holy water left; just enough to sterilize the cut.
Aiden knelt in front of me and caught my chin, raising it to inspect the wound. “Do we need to sterilize that?”
“Undoubtedly.” I gave him the small vial. “Pour the rest of this over it.”
I tilted my head to make it easier. He carefully dribbled the water over the wound; it stung like blazes for several seconds before easing off.
“Is that it?” He quickly scanned the rest of me. “Your dress is shredded, but I can’t smell any blood.”
“Because there isn’t any.” I glanced down. “Shame about the dress though. I really liked it.”
“Better the dress than you.” He caught my hands, then rose and tugged me up with him. “Do you want to head up to bed? I’ll deal with this mess.”
“It might be wise to call in Monty. He can make sure it’s safe to move her body.”
“She’s not likely to resurrect… is she?”
“I doubt it.” I hesitated and glanced at the Manananggal. There were few supernatural creatures that could survive having their face eaten away by holy water, let alone having their skull shot apart, but this particular one could live without half its damn body. “I don’t suppose you have a couple of wooden stakes hanging about, do you?”
His eyebrows rose. “No, but I could get them easily enough. Will any old wood do, or do you need something specific?”
“Ash is preferable, if there’s a tree nearby.”
“There is. Won’t be long.”
As Aiden headed out, I grabbed my phone and called Monty.
“What’s happened?” he said without preamble.
“The Manananggal made a surprise visit to Aiden’s. She’s now dead, but I was wondering if you could come out and supervise her removal.”
“Dead? Damn. Missed the fun again. How’d you kill her?”
“A mix of holy water and bullets.”
“And you’re sure she’s dead?”
“She ain’t moving, but we’re going to stake her with ash, just in case.”
“Good idea. I’ll be there in ten.”
My eyebrows rose. “You’re already in Argyle?”
“Close to. Belle rang and demanded I get my butt over to Aiden’s because you were about to be attacked. She just didn’t mention by what.”
Meaning he must have been in the area anyway, because even if he’d broken all land speed records, he couldn’t have gotten to Argyle from Castle Rock in such a short amount of time.
“I’ll see you soon,” he added, and hung up.
Aiden returned with several branches of ash. Once they were cleaned and sharpened, he said, “How many stakes do we actually need?”
“If she’s a distant relative of the vampire, then one should be enough. But I’d use them all, just to be safe.”
He nodded and did the grisly deed, shoving one stake into her heart and the rest into her chest. I watched through narrowed eyes, but there was no reaction and there surely would have been if there’d been any life left in her.
Relief stirred, its force so strong my knees threatened to collapse. Aiden caught me and tugged me close.
“Why don’t you go up to bed,” he said softly. “It’s going to take me a while to deal with this mess.”
“Monty’s only a few minutes away. Wait for him to get here, just in case you need magical help.” I rose on to my toes and quickly kissed him. “This is not how I’d hoped the night would end.”
“Me neither.” His quick smile was rueful. “But there’s always the morning.”
“There’d better be, or I may just scream.”
I kissed him again, this time with all the frustrated hunger that still burned within, then headed upstairs for a shower.
I didn’t hear Monty arrive. I had no idea what time Aiden slipped into bed and gathered me in his arms.
But the morning, when it finally arrived, was glorious.
* * *
It was late the following afternoon when the phone rang, and it was another unknown number. I hit the answer button and said, somewhat tentatively, “Lizzie Grace speaking.”
“Elizabeth, it’s your mother.”
My heart skipped a beat and then started to race. “What can I do for you, Mother?”
“It’s your father. He’s been shot.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Is he alive?” I might not want my father in my life, but I’d never wanted him dead. Despite everything, he was still my parent.
“Yes. Lawrence set a new perimeter alarm spell around his office, and while the thief managed to slip past the other spells, he missed that one.”
Which suggested the thief might have been familiar with the placement of the other spells, but not the new one. It also meant the new spell had probably given my father enough time to throw himself sideways but not to raise a retaliatory or protective spell. “Was the shooter caught?”
“No. But it wasn’t Clayton, if that’s what you’re thinking. He was across the other side of town, at an official gathering.”
I snorted. “It’s not hard to hire a killer, Mother. Not if you have the right connections.”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t know.” It was somewhat stiffly said. “And I’m sure Clayton wouldn’t know, either.”
She was severely underestimating Clayton’s slip into madness, but I didn’t bother saying so. Like my father, she’d known him for too long—she still saw the man she’d known rather than the one he’d become.
“How did the shooter escape?”
It was odd that he had, especially given that, despite them being two of the strongest witches in Canberra, they’d always had security guards on the front and back gates—and those guards were generally of mixed blood, meaning they were at least sensitive to magic even if they couldn’t perform it.
“Via a spell, as far as we can ascertain.”
I frowned. “The guards would have sensed a concealment spell.”
“He wasn’t concealed. It was something else.”
“What?”
She hesitated. “At this moment, we’re not sure.”
My frown deepened. “Why not? Surely a spell strong enough to allow the shooter to
