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Chapter 18

“Look.” Alessandra pointed at her screen, where an article had been loaded onto microfiche.

She and Torr sat in a little-used corner of Stone Haven University’s library. Unlikely research partners, to be sure. But with his brother, Toni, and Kenton working overtime to open the bar on schedule and Laria on spy duty outside the Walsh home, that left the two of them to this task.

For the past four days he’d spent his mornings and afternoons here in the library, digging up as much information as he could about the town’s history. Alessandra met him when she wasn’t teaching, and though the first day had been more than a bit awkward, Torr could now admit, if only to himself, he’d been a stubborn arse to judge the Cheld so quickly. She was determined. Driven. Strong. Alessandra had refused to give up even though they’d found little evidence to support the incidents mentioned in the journal.

Until now.

“If only these articles were indexed better, we might have found this sooner.”

Torr didn’t need to lean forward to see the words on the screen. The headline stood out to him clearly enough. Robbins farm purchased by New York resident. Oddly, the purchaser’s name wasn’t listed. But they’d uncovered enough evidence to tie the old Robbins farm to the Walsh family. They’d found a bill of sale dated two months after the Sect’s alleged visit to Stove Haven. The mayor had purchased the vampire’s farm, torn down every structure on the property, and planted what was now a forest on the edge of town—a farmland restoration any modern nature conservationist would be proud of.

“So we know Mayor Walsh did buy the farm, but instead of utilizing the land—”

“He turned it into a forest.” He looked at Alessandra. “A nineteenth-century eco-warrior,” he said dryly.

“Convenient,” she agreed. “Especially if you wanted to hide a buried body.”

“Oh, and I talked to Kenton about Lindisfarne.”

Torr did his best not to react at the mention of the Englishman’s name.

“What did he say?”

“He knows little about the place other than what can be found on the internet. He’d been there just once and can think of little reason why the Holy Island, as it’s known now, would be mentioned in the journal in conjunction with the Sect.”

“Perhaps something to investigate after the bar opens?” A lead he and his sister should likely pursue.

“Perhaps,” she said distractedly.

They continued their search but found nothing more. “I’ve got office hours—”

“This late?” It was nearly five p.m.

“Yeah, just this one night a week.” She sighed. “This isn’t looking good, Torr. We all know that. The Walshes have ties to the Sect, and right after Grandma and Zach Walsh left wherever they’d been holed up all summer, a cloaked Cheld showed up in town. Something’s up.

Sitting back in her seat, she crossed her arms. For someone who needed to leave, she didn’t appear to be in a hurry.

He could tell she wanted to talk to him about something, and he suspected it had nothing to do with the trouble with the Walshes.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I’m surprised you haven’t brought it up before.”

Peering at him from under a set of dark lashes, Alessandra held his gaze.

“I hear you’ve been with Charlotte every minute she’s not at work.”

“She’s not at work now—”

“Come on, Torr.” She exhaled so loudly a nearby student shot them a dirty look and pushed her earbuds deeper into her ears. “Be serious.”

In that case . . . “Guilty as charged.”

He’d been staying in her apartment, giving them time together each morning before she left for work, and he was going to grab food and head over there now. They planned to eat and then head to the bar.

With other activities in between.

“I don’t know you well,” Alessandra hedged. “But you’ve never struck me as a romantic, and yet . . .”