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“It’s in the small reception area, and it was written before he released Karen.”
“Why are you so certain?”
His smile held little in the way of humor. “Because the wolf who’d been guarding the door into the cold chamber managed to set off the alarm before he was killed. The vampire wouldn’t have had the time to do anything more than grab Karen and get out of there.”
“Ah.” I studied the door ahead. Once again I had no sense of anything untoward, and there was no shimmer or spell threads to indicate magic was present. And yet, intuition stirred, suggesting caution.
I glanced at Belle. Are you sensing anything?
No, but that’s not surprising. You’re the stronger witch in this outfit.
Aiden opened the door and ushered us inside. A ranger appeared and handed us blue crime scene booties and gloves; once we’d all pulled both on, we were allowed to continue. I narrowed my gaze as we neared the main door into the morgue; once again, there were no immediate signs of magic. And yet, the gentle pulse of it began to stir, making the small hairs on my arms rise.
I stepped into the room and then stopped. This was obviously a reception area, as there was a desk directly opposite and several chairs along the right wall. There were two doors behind the desk, but no symbols or signs, magical or otherwise.
The message had been painted on the left wall, in what I suspected might be drying blood—a theory supported by the chalked outlines of several body parts lying between the desk and the wall.
There were only two ways our vampire could have wreaked such havoc on a human form—either he’d used some form of spell, or he was extraordinarily strong. And it didn’t really matter which of those was the truth—I simply didn’t want to confront a man capable of wanton destruction.
I shivered again and forced my gaze back to the wall and the message. To the untrained eye, it might have looked like gibberish, but it was, in fact, what was commonly known as witch script—an ancient text that only adepts could read, and which had been developed over centuries to prevent the more dangerous spells from falling into the wrong hands.
Which could mean that not only had our vampire been a witch of some power before he turned, but that he’d come from one of the three blueblood houses. And yet that was impossible, because it broke the laws of life and death and went against everything witches believed in.
I couldn’t read what it said, however. There was some sort of spell interference happening, making it blurry.
It’s also blurring for me, Belle said. Which suggests that whatever the spell is, it’s not specifically aimed at you. It might just be a general warning to the reservation’s witches.
Then why would he use my name? And why use witch script if all he wanted to do was warn us away?
I don’t know.
Neither did I, and that was what was worrying me.
“Can you read what the message says?” Aiden asked.
“Kind of.”
“Meaning what?”
I glanced at him briefly. “It means there’s a spell in place stopping me from reading it fully.”
“Your charm isn’t reacting,” Belle said. “That backs up the idea that the spell isn’t specifically aimed at you.”
“Or it could just mean it’s triggered by proximity rather than mere presence.” I glanced at Aiden again. “I want your people out of here, just in case my attempt to defuse the spell goes wrong.”
He immediately glanced at the brown-haired ranger who’d handed us the booties. “Order an immediate evacuation of the entire facility. I want everyone out to the vehicle area.”
She nodded and began talking into a two-way radio. As a stream of people began to leave the area, he added, “I’ll get you to head out as well, Jaz.”
As she retreated, I said, “I think you and Belle had better do the same.”
Aiden frowned. “The IIT would have my badge if I allowed you to remain here alone—”
“If we are dealing with a major spell of some kind,” I cut in, “then you have little other choice, and they’ll know it. I can’t be worried about your ass when I’m trying to defuse a spell, Ranger. If you want, Belle can relay everything I’m seeing and doing for your records.”
His gaze shot to hers. “You’re telepathic?”
She patted his arm comfortingly. “It’s okay. I discovered a long time ago that the thoughts of most men aren’t worth the effort of skimming.”
