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“A vampire capable of dark magic,” Monty muttered. “Just what we need.”
“In this case, it just might be,” I said. “I’m not sure the four of us will be able—”
“There is no need for the other two witches,” Maelle said in a voice that suggested she wanted no arguments. “There’s no need for even this one. You and I will track down your ex, and then I will take him.”
“Maelle, he’s obviously aware what you’re capable—”
“He’s barely tasted a fraction of what I can do,” she cut in softly. “I underestimated him once. I will not make the same mistake again.”
Dark wisps of evil spun around her, speaking not only of the strength of her magic but the utter darkness of it. The heretic witch we’d dealt with a few months ago had been squeaky clean in comparison.
I shivered—and I knew I wasn’t the only one. Monty’s fear ran across my senses like sand.
“Even so,” he said, his voice showing little sign of his deep unease, “as reservation witch, I at least need to be present to—”
“No,” she cut in again, “you don’t. And you won’t.”
“That really isn’t wise, given you’ll need witnesses for whatever action the council might—”
“They fully understood what they let into the reservation. They will take no action against me, as long as I hold to my promise.” Her gaze returned to mine, and my stomach flip-flopped. “Contact Clayton. Arrange a meeting.”
I got out my phone. I didn’t dare do otherwise, even though I doubted Clayton would be using the same phone or phone number. He might have firmly stepped into insanity’s grasp, but even he’d be aware he could very easily be tracked through his phone.
The call rang out. I shoved it away and said, “He’ll ring me when he’s got his trap set.”
“Then I will wait here until he does.”
Like I needed that on top of everything else. I thrust a hand through my tangled hair and glanced at Monty. “You want a drink?”
“A coffee would be great.”
“Maelle?”
“I daresay you don’t stock what I need right now.” Her gaze fell onto Monty. “And I dare not take from the unwilling.”
“And I’m very unwilling.” He took a long detour around her and followed me to the counter.
I made his coffee, then, after taking a couple of painkillers, mixed up a very large revitalization potion. I was going to need all the strength I could get to make it through this night.
One hour crawled by, then two. I didn’t change clothes and I didn’t grab a shower. I just paced, as did Monty. Maelle didn’t twitch; I doubt she even breathed. She simply stood in the middle of the café, her arms crossed and her aura a shimmering curtain of angry purple-black.
It was close to three in the morning when my phone finally rang. I tugged it out of my pocket and glanced at the screen. It wasn’t a number I knew, but I knew who it was anyway.
“Wait,” Monty said urgently and got out his phone. “Put it on speaker, and I’ll record the conversation. It’ll work as evidence for the High Witch Council.”
“He won’t live to be judged by the witch council,” Maelle noted softly.
“While that may be true,” Monty said, “We nevertheless need to protect our asses, given they will want answers as to what happened to him.”
He quickly hit the record button and then gave me a nod. I pressed the answer button but didn’t get the chance to say anything.
A scream ripped down the line, a scream that was high-pitched and filled with pain. A fist grabbed my heart and squeezed tight, making it difficult to breathe, to think.
Belle.
It was Belle.
Chapter Fifteen
