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“Unless she’s also able to reattach. It’s possible if we’re dealing with something other than a ghoul.”

“Anything else to report?”

“No. But if we want to use the blood to trace this thing, I’d better preserve some pretty quickly. Its power is fading fast.”

I swung my pack around and pulled out a plastic Ziploc bag and a pocketknife. While I was also carrying my silver knife, using it would erase any lingering remnants of darkness within the blood.

I carefully cut out a good clump of soil that still held a sticky globule of blood and then carefully constructed a spell that would both contain and also ‘freeze’ the blood in its current state; hopefully that would make whatever impressions remained in the blood last until Monty got here. Once the threads of magic were tightly wound around the chunk of earth, I activated the spell and then carefully prodded it. The darkness that stirred lightly across my fingertips was no fainter than before. Hopefully, it would remain that way.

Belle deconstructed her protection circle, then we moved across to the small creek and perched on a couple of handy rocks. As the red-and-gold fingers of dawn faded and the day became brighter, the faint sound of approaching sirens ran across the silence, growing sharper before abruptly cutting off.

We heard Monty long before either man appeared—he was swearing like there was no tomorrow.

“He’s obviously having a lot of fun with the blackberry canes,” Belle said, amusement evident.

“Well, he’s broader than either of us, so he’s probably getting caught more often.”

“I’m not hearing Aiden complain.”

“No doubt because he’s in wolf form and can move through them easier.”

It was a guess that was proven correct a few minutes later as Aiden stepped into the clearing, his silver coat gleaming in the soft morning light now filtering through the trees. He glanced at the two of us—and even in wolf form, the gleam of annoyance in his blue eyes was very evident—then padded across to the bloodstain and sniffed it. His nose wrinkled in distaste, then light shimmered across his body, briefly concealing the change from wolf to human.

Before he could say anything, Monty all but erupted out of the blackberry cluster. His jacket was shredded and there were bloody scratches across his face and hands.

“Well, fuck, that’s an experience I’m not looking forward to repeating.” He plucked a short cane from his hair and flicked it away. “So, was the effort worth it? Did you get anything from reading the blood?”

I couldn’t help smiling. “The blood belongs to the ghoul, and the ghoul can sprout wings and tear itself in half.”

“Ha! Then I guessed right,” Monty said, delight evident.

“Care to share said guess with the rest of us?” Aiden said, voice dry.

“What we’re dealing with is a Manananggal, and it’s not really a ghoul. It’s more a vampire-like monster or witch who—depending on which myth you read—preys on either sleeping pregnant women or on newlyweds. The latter is apparently due to it being left at the altar.”

“So what happens to the lower part of its torso when it separates?” Aiden asked.

“It’s left standing wherever the Manananggal separated. The easiest way to kill it is to find the abandoned torso and then sprinkle a mix of salt, crushed garlic, and ash over and around it. This prevents the two parts rejoining, and means the Manananggal will perish on sunrise.”

I frowned. “Why, when it can obviously survive without half its body?”

“All magic has its limits and all supernatural beings at least one vulnerability. Obviously, needing to rejoin its body before night is over is this creature’s.”

“Does that mean it’s the inability to become one again that kills it, rather than sunlight?” I asked.

“Good question—and one I can’t answer.”

“Is preventing it rejoining the only way it can be killed?” Aiden asked.

“I daresay the usual methods to kill a vampire would work with this creature.” He walked across to where Belle and I were sitting. “Can I have a look at the blood sample?”

I handed him the Ziploc bag. He undid it and rolled the thread-wrapped piece of dirt into his hand. “There’s not much of a pulse, despite the spell around it. Which, by the way, was well done.”

I smiled. “Will you be able to use it to do a location spell?”

“Maybe.” He silently studied the bloodstained dirt for a few seconds. “If we’re to have any hope of it succeeding, it’ll need to be done straight away. And I’ll need your help, Liz.”

I frowned. “Why? You’re the stronger witch and—”

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