“It should have. It didn’t.”
“Meaning we’re dealing with a blueblood.” A very powerful blueblood. Like Clayton.
“Possibly,” she said. “The High Council has placed their top investigators on the case.”
“Father couldn’t tell you what sort of spell it was?”
“No. As I said, he’d been shot.”
“But he’s obviously not dead.”
“He underwent emergency surgery and is currently sedated. It’ll be a few days before anyone can speak to him.”
Meaning the gunshot wound really had been serious. Guilt stirred; I should have felt a little more concern…
Why? came Belle’s comment, especially after what he did to you?
He’s still my father—
So? A blood relationship doesn’t automatically trigger love or respect. It has to be earned, and he certainly hasn’t.
While that was totally true, it didn’t in any way ease that wash of guilt. “When did the shooting occur?”
“A day after their meeting with you.”
The edge of accusation in her voice had anger stirring. “If you think I had anything to do—”
“No, no, of course not,” she said hastily. “But the investigators do want to speak to—”
“Why?”
“It’s routine—they’re interviewing anyone who’d had contact with him in the preceding twenty-four hours.”
“Then I hope they’re intending to speak to Clayton,” I retorted. “I know you think otherwise, but I’d bet everything I own on the fact he’s behind this.”
“I believe they intend to. The trouble is, he’s currently unavailable.”
My heart did several more skips. “Unavailable? Or gone?”
“That is another unknown.”
“When did this happen?”
“Only a few hours ago.”
“You promised to ring me—”
“Which is exactly what I’m doing.” Her voice was sharp. “I was with your father all day yesterday; I wasn’t aware Clayton had disappeared until one of the investigators rang for an update on your father’s condition.”
“Has a locator spell been initiated?”
“Yes, with no success—though that in itself is not surprising.”
Not when most powerful witches were well able to counter such spells. “Did he fly out? Did the investigators check flight records?”
“They checked. He didn’t. And Rafael remains at Clayton’s residence.”
Clayton didn’t hold a driver’s license; Rafael had been his chauffer for as long as I could remember. “It’s easy enough to hire another driver.”
“I believe all local companies were checked. He hasn’t approached any of them.”
Which still left the non-local. I thrust a hand through my hair and tried to keep a grip on rising panic—but it was damn hard given Canberra was little more than six hundred and sixty kilometers away. That was only a seven-hour drive if you didn’t stop.
It was very possible Clayton was already in the reservation.
“Have they put a warrant out on him?”
“Of course not.” Her voice remained sharp. “There’s currently no evidence of his involvement—nothing other than your psychic certainty, anyway, and I’m afraid no court will process a warrant based on a precognitive dream.”
That, unfortunately, was very true. “I know you don’t place much faith in psychic talents—”
“With good reason, given few practitioners have your strength.”
She hadn’t ever considered mine a strength, and I had to wonder what had changed her mind. Was she now aware of my affinity with the wild magic? Was that what this was all about?
“It still might be worthwhile to find a psychometry-registered psychic,” I said. “They could do a location search.”
“Perhaps.” Meaning I shouldn’t hold my breath waiting for that to happen. “However, I’m more than willing to send something of his down to you, if it would be at all useful.”
Surprise rippled through me—at both the offer and the fact that she had access to his house. “It would, but it’d have to be something that he wore regularly.”
“Would a watch do?”
“That would be perfect.”
“I’ll arrange for it to be delivered posthaste.”
“Thank you.”
“I don’t want to lose another daughter, Elizabeth, no matter how strained our relationship is. I might not believe Clayton capable of violence, but I will do what I can to aid you.”
If she really wanted to aid me, she could have called in the full force of the High Witch Council. She certainly had the clout to do it. But I guess that no matter how much respect Clayton might have lost recently, he would always be given the benefit of the doubt because of his long term status as a powerful, influential witch. Few would act against him without definite proof.
“Thank you,” I repeated.
“I’ll let you know what your father says when he wakes.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “don’t bother,” if only because it’d probably be all over by the time that happened. But she was at least being civil, and I could do no less. “That would be appreciated.”
She hesitated. “Your brother would like to contact you—”
“Why?”
“You’re the only sibling he has left—does he really need another reason?”
“Think back, Mother—were we ever close?”
“Well, no, but things change—”
“Things like the possibility of my being able to use wild magic, perhaps?”
There was a long pause. “Your father did mention it, Elizabeth, but it’s not—”
“Like hell it isn’t. The answer is no. Goodnight, Mother.”
I hung up and took a deep, frustrated breath. It was always about the power with my family. Always.
A whiskey on ice appeared in front of my nose, and I took it with a grateful sigh. “You know, for years I dreamed of having the sort of power that would make me acceptable to my family. Now that the possibility is there, I’m realizing just how goddamn stupid that dream was. I don’t want them in my life. I don’t even like them.”
Belle plopped down on the chair opposite. “They’ll never change. You know this.”
I did, but it had never stopped the dreams of the inner child.
But meeting my father—and talking to my mother—as an adult certainly had.
“Families sometimes aren’t the ones you’re born into, but rather the ones you make,” Belle said. “I think we’ve gotten ourselves a pretty damn fine one here.”
I lightly clinked my glass against hers. “They’re not the problem at the moment. Clayton is.”
“If he disappeared yesterday, then it’s likely he’s already in the reservation.”
“Yes, and
