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I stopped in the back doorway and watched Aiden drag the bound and handcuffed man closer.
“Told you it would work,” he said cheerfully. “Let’s go around to the beer garden—we can interrogate him there.”
“I haven’t been read my fucking rights,” the man bellowed. “This is an illegal arrest.”
There was a lilt to his voice that suggested he’d come from Ireland, but it was impossible to say how recently. Some people never lost their accent, no matter how long they stayed in another country.
“I’m head ranger and this is my reservation,” Aiden said. “You were not only following us, but rather stupidly threw a punch at me. You have no rights.”
“This is bullshit—”
“And it’s bullshit that’ll land you in a cell for several years if you’re not damn careful and start cooperating.”
“I demand you give me my phone call.”
“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Aiden kicked a metal chair sideways, slung the stranger onto it, and then pulled one of the ever-present cable ties from his pocket, quickly connecting the stranger’s bound hands to the back of the chair.
“Help,” the stranger screamed. “Someone help me!”
Aiden rolled his eyes but strolled over to the double doors that led back into the bar and went inside.
I crossed my arms and glared at our captive. “I suggest you start cooperating, or you’ll be forced to.”
He snorted. “You don’t scare me, witch.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Really? I take it, then, that you’ve been given some form of protection against certain types of magic?”
This time, he controlled his emotions far better. There was barely a flicker to indicate my guess had hit the mark.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“That so? How, then, do you think we found you?”
He shrugged. “Your ranger friend is a wolf—they’re good trackers.”
“But not so good that they can follow someone in a speeding truck at a distance of several kilometers.”
“I can’t see your point—”
“The point,” Aiden said, as he came back out, “is that you’ve got a tracking spell on you.”
“That’s impossible—”
“Says who? Oh, and don’t bother with any more screams for help. The owner and patrons have been informed of the situation.”
“And they’ll be my witnesses when I sue your ass for false arrest and imprisonment.”
Aiden smiled. “Oh, I don’t think it’ll get to that. Liz, do you want to check him?”
“Check me for what?” the stranger said, his voice indignant. “What the hell do you think I’m carrying?”
“Protection.” I stepped to one side of the chair—out of feet range—and held my hand an inch or so above his body as I checked him from head to foot. It was only when I got to his boots that I felt the sting of magic. It wasn’t Clayton’s—aside from the fact it felt generic, it held none of his bite. I guess that was unsurprising—Clayton had been caught flat-footed once. I doubt he’d underestimate us a second time, and that meant he would not put his magical ‘mark’ on anything that could be traced back to him—not until he was ready to confront me, anyway.
It also explained why the tracker had stuck—the spell hadn’t been designed to ward off something so simple.
I stepped back. “It’s in his boot.”
“Left or
