“Semantics,” Lazarus said with a dismissive wave. “You came to clear her name—we do that by finding Balthazar. If we’re able to nab the sorcerer, we can bring him to Inspector Brown, explain what happened with the vision, and point to it as another part of this elaborate plan to frame Embry and the coven.”
“I understand the importance of finding him. I just haven’t divined it yet.”
Daddy knocked his big elbows on the table. “Well, what are we waiting for? Do you need us in a specific formation? Or perhaps to be alone for the initial viewing before you share it? You can use my office, if that’s the case.”
“No, no, sir. I don’t need to be alone. A circle would be best. In nature is preferred.”
Daddy was already out of his chair. “Around the pool? Or in our coven pentagram?”
“Either, sir.”
The group went for what was closest. They made a circle in the manicured lawn that surrounded the pool before bleeding into the property’s wooded sections. Embry sat between Alistair and Rye, determination renewed.
They were going to find Balthazar. Then they were going to bring him to justice. For what he’d done to Oakley. Her family. What he’d tried to do to Embry and her coven.
“Get cozy,” Kimberly pressed. “It’s best if we’re cross-legged, our knees and hands in contact.”
There was some shuffling, and then Embry was holding both Rye’s hand and Alistair’s. Even though she wasn’t in the habit of regularly holding hands with anyone except maybe Amethyst, Embry felt a deep sense of comfort wash over her.
They were going to find answers.
Unless Balthazar’s powerful sorcerer magic didn’t want them to. Embry’s closed eyes flashed open as a shard of fear stabbed her straight in the stomach.
“Wait.” The word was a near shout. The entire circle jolted. Alistair looked to her, alarm in his handsome features. Embry wet her lips and tried to explain her very un-Embry-like outburst. “Before you divine for Balthazar’s location, I think we need to ensure your vision isn’tcurrentlycorrupted—we’re less than an acre from the Raven’s Head grounds, after all.”
Disappointment panned across Alistair’s face, and then determination. “Okay, that’s a good point. Clearly whatever spell he’s using is good enough that I can’t spot a corrupt vision on my own. So… what do you suggest?”
Embry took a deep breath. “I think if you share the visionfrom Oakley’s murder scene, we’ll know if your magic is clear or corrupt.”
“If you’re in it, we’ll know we can’t trust it?”
“Exactly.”
“It may be hard for you to watch,” Alistair said kindly.
“I know.”
“And if it’s wrong? How do we find Balthazar?” Lazarus asked. He turned to the women beside him. “Would your skills of divination be corrupted by this sorcery?”
“We’re not sure,” Kimberly answered.
“But we’ll give it a try,” Natasha added.
It wasn’t a perfect Plan B but at least they had one.
Alistair turned to Embry. “You ready?”
She nodded. Alistair closed his eyes and began humming an indecipherable tune. As the notes piled on, so did the divining magic. It warmed Embry’s fingers, the sweet scent of it lifting to the morning breeze, like a cherry pie cooling on a windowsill.
Then color washed on the purpling backs of her eyelids.
Shapes began to form, sharpening until they came into view all at once. The Raven’s Head stadium. A shadowy figure running toward the gate, away from the field. The point of view moved toward the figure like a fancy camera on a wheeled track. Embry held her breath as the shape shifted, limbs separating from shadow into form and function. Then, just as her lungs began to burn, the person began to elongate, becoming taller, broader, darker.
Until it was Balthazar.
Running away from the scene, Oakley’s blasted backpack slung over dark clothing.
The scene moved smoothly into the stadium proper, rolling on an expedited clip straight toward the display. Embry’s lungs released as she gasped at the sight, just as vivid in this vision as in her memory.
