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“I guess.” I motioned to the note. “Does it say anything else?”
“Only that he’s requested additional information from the HIC.”
My mouth twitched. “That is such a weird acronym for such a serious organization.”
“Indeed.” He folded the note up and tucked it into his pocket. “I’ll contact them and see if they’ll send us the information.”
“And another hunter.” I hesitated. “Aiden will want to see that note, you know.”
“He can—after I’ve translated the rest of it.”
I frowned. “I thought you had?”
“No. As I said, for whatever reason, it was written in a hurry. There’s an end passage I can’t quite make out.”
Which was fair enough, but I suspected Aiden would be far from happy about him keeping the note.
Out in the hall, footsteps began to echo. It said plenty about my awareness of Aiden that I knew he was approaching from just the sound of his steps. I rose, as did Ashworth.
Aiden stepped into the room and then stopped. His gaze quickly swept the area, pausing briefly on Chester’s body before coming to rest on us. “You both okay?”
“Yeah, there’s no magic involved in this kill,” Ashworth said. “We’ve checked the entire place out and it’s safe.”
“Meaning you’ve also had a look around for clues, no doubt.” Aiden’s expression gave little away, but I nevertheless caught the brief flare of annoyance in his eyes.
“I’ll remind you that this is technically an RWA investigation, even if I’m also acting as reservation witch,” Ashworth replied evenly. “And I have every right to investigate any crime scene that involves a witch—whether or not a ranger or an officer of the law is also present.”
That spark of annoyance got stronger in Aiden’s eyes. “Did you find anything?”
“Nothing you can use or read, Ranger.”
“Ashworth—”
“It’s a note, in witch script,” I said, before the conversation could escalate any further. “It sug
gests that the heretic witch isn’t dead, that he has instead transferred his soul into another body and is currently recovering strength somewhere unknown.”
Aiden’s gaze went from me to Ashworth and back again. “Not kidding, then.”
“No, unfortunately,” Ashworth said. “There’s a passage at the end of the note I can’t read properly—either because it was hastily written or because something else was going on. Once I decode it, I’ll give you the note and the transcribed information.”
“Does that mean you’ve finished here?”
“Yes,” Ashworth said. “When the autopsy is being performed, could you ask Ciara or whoever else does it to look for small slivers of black rock embedded in his skin?”
“Anything embedded into flesh would be noted in the results as a matter of course, but why?”
“Because this was obviously a deliberate hit, but the question is, how was Chester found? He paid cash upfront, wasn’t staying here under his own name, and would have noticed if a location spell had been activated in the area.”
“If we do find something embedded, will it be safe to handle, or should we notify you before it’s removed?”
“I doubt it would be anything more than a low-grade tracking spell, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry. Come along, lassie, I need to get home.”
With that, he strode past Aiden and left the room.
Aiden glanced at me. Frustration and regret briefly swirled through his blue eyes, their force echoing through me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I grabbed my backpack and walked toward the door. “And hopefully for a good reason rather than a bad.”
