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“In spellcraft yes, but it’s rather debatable when it comes to actual power.” His voice was dry. “But that’s beside the point. I can do a locator but if the dark thread contained within the blood fades too much more, then our only hope might be your psi skills.”
“I’ve already used psychometry on the blood, Monty. The images were vague—”
“Maybe the connection was simply too faint because the creature is too far away.”
“Blood is a connector?” Aiden asked, surprise in his tone.
Monty glanced at him. “With many supernatural creatures, yes.”
“Then why haven’t we used it to locate these things before? If there’s one thing we haven’t been short on in the recent spate of murders, it’s blood.”
“Yes, but I rather suspect it’s a skill that’s only recently developed.” Monty’s gaze returned to mine. “Am I right?”
“Yes.” I shrugged. “It would seem the wild magic is altering—either by enhancing or changing—some of my psychic abilities and my sensory capabilities.”
“Is that why you came up here to talk to Katie?” Aiden asked.
I met his gaze evenly. “Yes. And no, I won’t inform you every time I go see her, Aiden. That would be impractical and intrusive.”
“On her life? Or yours?”
I smiled, though it held little humor. “Can we save this discussion until after we’ve caught this ghoul or vampire or whatever the hell it actually is?”
He studied me for a minute, then nodded once. The annoyance in his eyes remained—and sparked an echo inside of me. He had no right to anger; not when the Marin pack had given us clearance to enter that clearing as and when necessary.
He wasn’t my keeper. Not now. Not in any future scenario I could imagine. And I’d have thought he’d know me well enough by now to be aware of that fact.
Except he’s not only a werewolf, Belle said, amusement in her mental tone, but also a man. And we all know that their brain and instincts don’t always listen to each other.
I snorted mentally and tried to ignore the niggling annoyance as Monty wove a spell in and around my preserving spell. It was so delicately done that although the two spells were intimately entwined, neither interfered with the other.
“Right,” he said after closing off the last thread and then activating the spell. “The trail leads up the hill.”
Belle pushed to her feet. “At least we don’t have to tackle the blackberries again.”
“Depends on where the trail leads us,” Aiden said. “They return with a vengeance in the next valley.”
“Something else to look forward to,” I muttered, casting a look Aiden’s way.
He simply raised one eyebrow and motioned me forward. I swung my pack over my shoulder and followed Monty up the hill. I was puffing badly by the time we reached the top, so when Monty stopped, I took the opportunity to grab a drink.
“Has the trail gone cold?” Aiden asked.
“Maybe.” Monty held the spell-wrapped piece of dirt away from his body and moved slowly around. After doing one complete circle, he turned back to the right. “There’s a slight pulse coming from down that trail, but I’m not entirely sure it’s a true reading.”
I frowned. “How can it not be a true reading?”
His expression was troubled. “I don’t know. It just feels… off.”
“I’m not smelling anything out of place,” Aiden commented.
Neither was I. But if Monty said something was wrong, then there definitely was. “If you peel back your spell, I’ll see if the blood can give us any further clues.”
He nodded and immediately did so. I carefully pushed a finger through the threads of my preserving spell and lightly touched the dried blood. Though there was very little in the way of response, Monty was right. Something felt different.
I withdrew my finger and studied the faint path that disappeared into a thick strand of trees lining the ridge. “Whatever’s caused the change in the response we’re getting, I don’t think it’s too far away.”
“I’ll go investigate—”
