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The same age Frieda Andersen had been when she’d committed suicide, the same age Karen was when she’d been killed.
I doubted any of it was a coincidence.
“Do you know how Mason died?”
“Car accident,” Aiden said. “His car ran off the road and hit a tree.”
“Why was he driving when he was only sixteen?”
“Teenagers are allowed to drive solo at that age within the reservation as long as they obey a rather strict set of criteria.” He shrugged. “Up until Mason, we’d had no major accidents.”
“Was he drunk?”
“There was no alcohol or drugs in his system. We initially suspected he either fell asleep at the wheel or was trying to avoid something and lost control, but that was before we discovered bullet holes in his rear tires.” His gaze settled on mine. “Why?”
I hesitated. “I was talking to Marjorie early this evening. I think I know what all this is about.”
“And you’re intending to enlighten me, I hope.”
“Yes, but not here.”
He grunted and stepped past me. I grabbed his arm to stop him from getting any closer. “Wait.”
“Why?”
“Because the earth at the far end of the grave is stained with blood and who knows what else.” Just because I couldn’t feel any magic right now didn’t mean it wasn’t here. “At the very least, I need to cleanse the area before we go near that grave.”
His skepticism was on full display, but all he did was motion me to proceed. I swung the backpack around and unzipped it. The precious bottles of holy water were still intact, despite the roughhousing they must have gotten. I pulled two free then handed the pack to Aiden and walked to the end of the grave. There was no sign of active magic, but the memory of it stained the earth as strongly as the blood. I uncorked one of the bottles and began the purification spell. As I spoke, I poured the water over the bloody soil, until it was completely covered. Then I uncorked the second and continued around the grave, just to ensure no taint remained. Mason would be laid to rest here again once we caught him, and the combination of holy water and the spell should ensure that he could at least rest in peace. Without these precautions, any spell remnants left in the soil might have kept at least some parts of his body awake, if not aware.
I closed off the spell then glanced at Aiden. “It’s safe to approach now.”
Aiden stepped up to the grave and studied it silently. “The casket looks as if it was smashed open from the inside.”
I nodded. “Reanimated flesh is surprisingly strong.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve had experience with them before?”
“No. It’s simply one of the things they teach us at school.”
“Not at my school, they didn’t.” A smile flirted with his lips, but faded all too quickly. “How dangerous will Mason be? How long will the magic keep him alive?”
“I can’t honestly answer the latter, because it usually depends on both the spell and the practitioner.” I hesitated. “But in this case, I can’t imagine he’d be active for more than a few days.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because he was raised for one simple purpose—to kill his father.”
“Morris? Why?”
“Let’s go back to the café and I’ll tell you.”
“Okay.” He hesitated. “I know the Redferns quite well. Mason was their only child, and his death hit them hard. This is going to shatter them.”
I walked around the grave and headed back to his truck. “Not as much as their decaying son smashing his way into their home and trying to kill them will.”
He fell in step beside me. “Is there any danger of that happening tonight?”
“As I said before, this spell should wipe our sorcerer out, but he’s also a vampire and I’ve never come across that combination before, not even in any of the reference books I’ve read.” I rubbed my arms against the chill continuing to steal across my body. “It may be that he’ll send Mason after his father as soon as possible, because while the blood magic raised him, it’s the strength and will of the practitioner that feeds him.”
