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I smiled and slid a cappuccino across to her. “Meaning she has all manner of ‘Things’ crawling around the place?”
“Well, I didn’t spot any creepy crawly hands, but there were certainly plenty of weird noises—cracking whips and clinking chains—all accompanied by a chorus of groans, moans, and shrieks.” She took a quick drink and licked the froth from her lips. “I swear she’s running an underground BDSM den of some kind.”
“Anything is possible with Maelle, though it’d be hard to keep something like that secret given the power
and reach of the gossip brigade.”
“Unless she’s not catering to locals but rather outsiders. It wouldn’t be hard to conceal the comings and goings of her patrons, given this whole reservation survives on tourism.”
True. And a BDSM den certainly seemed a more appropriate business than a dance club for someone with Maelle’s dark energy. “Were there any problems?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t even see Maelle. Roger escorted me to my room—which thankfully had its own en suite, so I didn’t have to leave said room—and reappeared once I was awake and showered to escort me out.”
“Was the room located underground?”
“We certainly accessed the area from the basement, but I couldn’t be certain where we went from there. There was some sort of weird veil that confused the senses.”
Unease prickled down my spine. “Magic?”
She nodded. “And powerful enough to disorientate. I honestly couldn’t have said whether I was in the same building or not. I certainly couldn’t hear the music, which was weird given I could hear all the other stuff.”
It sounded like some sort of transport spell—but was something like that even possible? And if it was, then why wasn’t Canberra using it? Surely it’d be easier to magically change locations rather than hopping on a plane or driving for hours to get somewhere. “You okay with going back?”
“I’d rather not, but if it has that effect on me, then it’s likely to have the same effect on Clayton—if he gets that far, that is.” She grimaced. “I just wish the room had better soundproofing.”
“Earplugs might solve that problem.”
“That and a knockout potion.” She scrubbed a hand across her eyes. “If I fall asleep in the middle of service today, at least you’ll know why.”
Thankfully, we weren’t all that busy, no doubt due in part to the bitter storm that hit right before lunchtime. Belle headed upstairs around one for a nana nap while Penny and I looked after the few brave souls who came in despite the torrential downpour.
My phone rang just as we’d closed for the day; the tone told me it was my mother. I answered it with more than a little trepidation.
“Your father is awake,” she said, without preamble. “He’s given a description of his assailant to both the police and the council’s investigators.”
“I take it he didn’t know the man?”
“It was a woman. And no, although he did say the veil of power around her felt familiar.”
“How familiar?”
She hesitated. “He said he didn’t have time to fully examine the threads and couldn’t guess at their origin.”
Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t? I rather suspected the latter. “I take it a warrant has been issued?”
“Yes. She boarded a Melbourne-bound plane late last night.”
My heart began to beat a whole lot faster. “Did the cops intercept her at Tullamarine?”
“No, because the plane had already landed by the time the warrant had been issued. A check of security cams indicated an unknown gentleman in a black Mercedes picked her up. The Mercedes was found abandoned just outside Sunbury. It had been stolen the night before.”
Meaning she—and whoever had picked her up—not only had this all planned out, but could already be in the reservation.
“Was the veil dad mentioned how this woman slipped into the house?”
“We believe so. It was designed to counter known spells, as far as your father could ascertain.”
If he could ascertain that, he really should have been able to ascertain origin. And perhaps he had; perhaps it was a simple matter of neither he nor my mother wanting to admit that I’d been right when it came to Clayton.
