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I closed my eyes and fell into the rhythm, then started singing softly. I missed singing—I’d been considered talented before Dredge had gotten to me, and I still led the chants and songs during our holidays.
Camille glanced over at me, where she sat between Morio and Smoky, and smiled softly. Kitten stoked the fire, then handed out skewers with marshmallows. Vanzir scrounged up a drum and joined in, and Iris lent her voice to mine. As one song ended, we moved into the next, and then the next, heedless of the light misting drizzle that showered down. Warmed by the fire, we ignored what might be coming tomorrow, as we remembered our yesterdays.
Chapter 16
Late in the evening—around midnight—we returned to the house. The others were tired, and so I bade them good night and went down to my lair to get ready for my trip to Roman’s. I thought about braiding my hair again before I left but then said, “Fuck it,” and changed into jeans and a turtleneck, leaving my hair down. Nerissa was already asleep by the time I left. She had a busy day ahead of her at work tomorrow and I didn’t want to disturb her, so I left a note on the nightstand and headed out. I decided to take the Jag. It was still rattling, but if Jason said it would make it until next week, I believed him.
The streets were still fairly busy—not only was it Samhain Eve, but it was also Halloween for the general populace, and adult partygoers were reveling. I was headed down a side street when a Hummer lurched forward out of the alley. The next moment, I screamed as the beast’s nose drove itself directly into the side of my Jag on the passenger side. Before I knew what was happening, we went skidding across the intersection.
Gripping the wheel, I held on, the sound of metal screeching as I struggled to break my Jag free from the Hummer. But my bumper was tangled up in its bumper, like a chicken on a spit, and all I could do was ride out the attack.
Seconds later, the oncoming brick wall loomed large, and I panicked. I could probably survive this, if nothing pierced me through the heart, but the idea of being wedged between that monstrosity and the building didn’t strike me as comforting. I let go of the wheel and struggled with my seat belt.
But it was too late—my Jag hit the building, side first, as metal screeched along metal. The Hummer wasn’t braking—it continued its drive forward, like a compactor in a junkyard, shattering the passenger door and window, trundling me into the brick wall before I could get free of my seat belt.
I braced myself for impact as it crunched the front seats, expecting to be mangled at any moment. I knew I could survive the impact, and heal, but only if my heart was protected from anything that might be aimed at it and if my car didn’t explode into flames.
But then, as the sounds of a siren echoed nearby, the Hummer stopped abruptly, then pulled away, dragging the passenger door of my car with it. It barreled down the street. I held tight to the steering wheel, trying to get my bearings. Then, panic rising, I ripped off the seat belt and, unable to make it past the jumble of metal on either side, I smashed my fist through the already fractured windshield. Within seconds, I crawled over the hood as the cops came skidding up. I cleared the wreck and stood there, numb, staring at the remains of what had been my Jag. There was nothing left except twisted metal and broken glass.
“Menolly!” Yugi’s voice shook me out of my daze.
“Yugi?” I turned, staring at Chase’s second in command. “Yugi? What are you doing here?”
“I was on my way back to headquarters when I saw the whole thing.” He was Swedish, and an empath, and he was damned good at his job. Now a look of concern spread across his face. “Who the hell was trying to kill you, Menolly? Because from what I saw, that was deliberate.”
Twenty minutes later, I was in the headquarters of the FH-CSI, and Roman was there by my side. Yugi had called Nerissa, and she, Camille, and Delilah were on their way down to pick me up. I couldn’t have the hot coffee, but Yugi had found a spare bottle of blood and he warmed it up. I sipped slowly, the liquid loosening the knots in my back. While I hadn’t been hurt, I’d had one hell of a shock.
“We have to trace the Hummer.” Roman was furious. He leaned his hands on the table and stared at Yugi, who was sitting beside me. “You’re the policeman. Did you get the license plate?”
Yugi shook his head. “My first priority was making sure Menolly was okay. By the time I saw her, the car had vanished. But we have the make and model, and we have the color. It’s hard to hide a Hummer. They don’t just blend in with the crowd.”
“It’s not hard if you have a garage or a warehouse.” Roman was pissed. I’d seldom seen him this angry.
“Don’t bother. We’re pretty sure we know who’s responsible. Or at least, who has a hand in it.” I reached up, placed my hand on his arm.
“I may have some information that can shed some light on the attack.” Rane—one of the Fae officers who worked the night shift—entered the room at that moment. She was holding my purse. “This is yours, right?”
I nodded. “Right.”
“There was a tracer bug in it. I caught the little bugger when we were clearing out your car before the tow truck showed up. It was trying to crawl out of the bag as I picked it up. I managed to catch the critter.” She held up a jar. Inside, a tracer bug was fluttering around.
A lot like beetles, tracer bugs were from Otherworld, and they did a remarkable job of acting like a tracker—a biological GPS, so to speak. While not intelligent, they could easily be used by anybody who was good with a seeing-eye spell, or any sort of spy spells. Usually, sorcerers used them to track their rivals.
I stared at the thing. They were good at camouflage. I seldom pawed through my purse other than looking for my wallet or my keys. It could have easily hidden there for any length of time.
“When’s the last time you fully cleaned out your purse?” Yugi stared at the bug, then motioned for Rane to place the jar on the table.
Thinking back, I tried to remember when I’d last looked through the handbag. After a moment, I knew. “Two weeks ago. I emptied it out to find Nerissa’s chocolates she’d tossed in there.”
“Can you think of any time in the past two weeks that you haven’t been around your purse, other than at home? I doubt anybody there would have bugged your handbag.” Yugi jotted something down in his notebook.
“Damn it… there have been several occasions.” I propped my chin up with my hands. “I can’t believe this—my Jag’s destroyed. The first accident was bad enough but this one? I can’t believe I’ve been in two wrecks in less than a week. They can’t be coincidence.”
Roman rubbed his chin and looked at Yugi. “You know who’s doing this but you aren’t telling us. Don’t you think it’s time?”
Yugi stared at him for a moment. “Menolly, was your purse unattended during the first accident?”
I frowned, thinking back. “Yeah, actually. It was… I left it on the seat when I let… whatever her name was—I can’t remember it right now—sit in my car to warm up while we waited for the tow truck.”
