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“Convenience?” At the sideboard, Marc pours himself a large cup of coffee. “Maybe there is no pattern, and only the deaths matter.”
He had arrived early this morning to join us in the planning room above the Hub after Darius relieved him of babysitting duty.
“At least we can cross a sin off the list to narrow our potential victim pool.” Hidden behind her monitors, Meredith’s nails tap on her keyboard. “Makes my job slightly easier. I’m still so pissed I couldn’t track down the judge before he was killed.”
“You’re only one person,” Sharpe reminds her.
“One person with all the information in the world at my fingertips.” An angry click punctuates the words.
“It’s strange that the black dog didn’t make another attempt on Bailey last night.” I look up at Marc. “You’re sure it didn’t get scared away by the wards?”
Marc shakes his head. “It paced around the judge’s house until it found a way in. I doubt it would have given up as soon as it came up against a little salt and iron.”
Sharpe sets the tray of push pins down and paces away. “Could the target have changed after we locked Bailey up?”
“I checked Bailey’s ass before I left this morning.” Marc grimaces into his mug. “The symbol is still there.”
I touch his arm. “You should head back to the hotel and get some rest.”
Exhaustion paints deep shadows under his eyes, and a beard darkens his jawline. Between the crime scene and babysitting duty, he’s been awake for over forty-eight hours.
“I’ll head to the Harbor soon.” He leans in, his whiskers tickling my cheek. “I want to be near you right now.”
Understanding the desire to stay together, I don’t argue with him.
Every time someone in our family flirts with death, it sends ripples through our group that need time to settle. We were still recovering from almost losing Flint to the Bone Man when the black dog’s attack threatened to take both me and Darius.
We’ve become too reliant on our ability to resurrect and have had too many close calls over the last several months that put our immortality in question.
Sharpe’s voice draws us apart. “Has there been any progress in tracking down the other potential victims?”
“I might have a lead on Envy.” Meredith’s focus remains on her monitors, and frustration laces her tone. “I’m still working on it.”
I walk to the table where my coffee waits and sit down. I lift the mug to my lips and grimace. It’s at that unpleasant temperature where it’s neither hot nor cold enough to be enjoyable.
But caffeine is caffeine.
A steaming cup appears before me, the scent rich and inviting. I glance up to see Sharpe standing next to me, concern in his hazel eyes.
I set my half-filled cup aside and accept the new one with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
Bending, he kisses my cheek. “Anything for you.”
He slides into the chair beside mine, and his hand finds its way to my thigh, the comforting weight grounding me. “If we can track down Envy and Pride, we can toss them in with Bailey, then wait out the eclipse.”
“Flint’s working with Reese and Xander to make the tracker more accurate, too.” I wrap my hands around the warm, ceramic mug with appreciation. “Hopefully they’ll succeed, and we can get to the next black dog sighting faster.”
Our soul witch had barely slept last night and had been out the door before the rest of us woke.
“Let’s hope so.” Marc falls into the seat on my left, and his knee presses against mine under the table. “We need all the help we can get.”
Both he and Sharpe have been more touchy-feely since Darius brought me back from the brink. Sharpe hasn’t left my side, even skipping his usual morning practice with Syl’vin in order to remain near, while Flint has thrown himself into figuring out a magical solution.
We all deal with things in our own way.
When this is over, though, we’re all taking a vacation. With so many back-to-back disasters, none of us have had the downtime necessary to fully recuperate.
“I might have something.” Meredith’s head pops up over her monitors, her eyes wide with excitement. “I’ve been digging through Vicki’s Play4U profile?—”
