Jude looked at him.
Mack knew exactly what Jude would ask before Jude’s lips moved. No, he was not going with Jude. He would not help track down a cow killer; he had a shop to run. And if he spent too much time with Jude, there was a very real chance he’d end up doing something dangerous like kissing him again, and that had been…weird. It had been weird because something else had happened. Kisses shouldn’t taste like a storm and leave him wanting more.
“Did you want to come with me and see if you can get a scent?” Jude smiled as though he’d just asked Mack out on a date.
“Do I look like a bloodhound?” He glanced at Jude’s clothing. The same pointy-toed boots, but a different pair of tight-fitting jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket that seemed like it lived a very careful and safe life, much like the shoes. If Jude found this thing and got close, he was going to get himself killed. “Fine. I’ll take you out there, but only because you’d get lost or piss off the farmer.”
“Thank you.”
Mack growled, and Jude stepped back as though ready to run. Before the witch took off, Mack needed a way to contact him. “What’s your number?” Mack wrote the numbers Jude recited, then held out one of his business cards. “In case you need to contact me.”
He’d regret this. He was sure of it.
Jude reached out and snagged the card with his fingertips as though he didn’t want to get too close. That stung, but Mack refused to let it show.
“Are you Robert or Aaron?”
“My father is Aaron. No one calls me Robert unless they don’t know me.” He didn’t know what he wanted Jude to call him.
“Mack it is.” Jude turned the card over in his hand, and then the card vanished. “I am sorry about last night.”
There was a sincerity in his tone that Mack hadn’t expected. “Which bit are you sorry about?”
“That it ended after the kiss.”
Chapter Four
The historical society hadn’t given Jude anything useful—a tourist brochure wasn’t what he needed—and the whole time he’d been thinking about Mack. He needed to find a way to tell him they were bound together until such time Jude figured out a way to undo the familiar bond, or he asked the Coven to undo it—which surely they would when he found the creature, and if he didn’t, the bond wouldn’t matter because he wouldn’t be a witch anymore.
He should’ve checked out the dead cows first, but what was he supposed to do, knock on people’s doors and ask? Who wanted to examine dead mutilated things? He didn’t want to look at living cows either. He longed to get back to the city where the buildings reached for the sky and there was no endless horizon.
That horizon stretched out in front of him, broken only by a few rather fragile houses. What remained of Mercy North cowered beneath the clear blue sky as though it wanted to melt into the earth. He parked the car in the middle of the road.
There was nothing and no one around him. Not even a tumbleweed. He knew some people found this kind of thing calming, but he didn’t. Being here was like being on another planet. There were no people, and if something happened to him, no one would care. He’d be forgotten in a heartbeat. He had no one in his life who gave a damn. It was easier that way, and it gave him a reason not to care.
If he really didn’t want to be here or be a witch, he’d have let the Coven strip his magic at the meeting. But he liked being part of something. Even if it was a secret from most people.
The empty windows of the houses stared at him. He shivered.
No one is here, and nothing will happen.
Jude failed at convincing himself. Maybe he’d seen one too many horror movies where the person investigating weirdness died. He took a moment to gather himself before getting out of the car. Then he opened the door, bracing himself for the ancient waft of a curse.
There was exactly no waft of magic, or at least no remains of a curse. But there was something. He reached out with the rest of his senses; sure magic had been worked here. Whether it was the remains of big old magic or small new magic he had no idea, but it didn’t have the dark, sticky taste of a hex. He’d have to tramp around until he found the source. He sighed. He would actually have to investigate.
The buildings of Mercy North appeared to be ready to fall over in the next strong breeze. The road was sprouting weeds and, in some places, had three-foot-high trees. In other places cars had flattened the weeds struggling to grow. Mack had said teens came out here. Maybe they drove through the town instead of parking on the edge like he’d done.
He considered getting back in the car and driving farther in, but he was supposed to be searching for clues as to why the town had died and he needed to be on foot for sensing magic.
His phone rang, and he startled, fumbling before answering. “Hello?”
“Mack. Dead cow is at Morris’s farm. He still has it and he said I could bring you over after lunch. He’s digging the hole this morning.”
“Digging the hole?” His stomach turned. He would really have to look at a dead cow. His stomach did a preemptive flip.
“To bury what’s left of it.”
“Right. Can you take some pictures?” There was no point in them both going out there, and he was sure the pictures would be bad enough.
Mack hung up. That was probably a no.
Jude texted Mack. I’m at North. I’ll be back at your shop by twelve.
He held his phone, hoping for a reply, but didn’t get one. Great, his familiar hated him. He kicked at
