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“Do you need help?” Zeke asked.
“I’m not sure. He told me he needed to locate this treasure hunter, but now he’s asking me to find the treasure and if I refuse…” I replayed the conversation in my head and blinked. “He said we’d regret makingthemour enemy.” I paused. “I think that answers our question about him working with the law firm.
“Shit.” Zeke’s tone turned all business. “I’m sending Wyatt to the dock. Wait for him. I don’t want you going in there alone.”
I wasn’t going to fight him on that. “Thanks Zeke.”
I ended the call and pulled out onto the street.
The docks in Salem were quiet these days. Most shipping freighters and large boats headed into Boston. Salem’s port was mostly a historical landmark now. The Salem yacht club, smaller commercial fishing ships, and occasionally a cruise ship full of tourists were the usual visitors these days.
It shouldn’t have been tough to locate Jonas Dover’s boat.
The question was, would he be on it?
I found a parking spot and walked down toward the water. The cold wind coming off the water burned my face and hands. I pulled my coat tighter and stuffed my hands in my pockets as I took a deep breath, allowing my heightened senses to catalog the area beyond what I could see.
The scent of garlic and fried shrimp pumped out from a seaside restaurant on the wharf, and a myriad of perfume, hairspray, and saltwater, filled my nostrils. Nothing out of place for this area. A familiar sound caught my ear as I turned around. Wyatt’s truck with its rough idle. He was circling the public lot for a space.
Good. I was itching to get down the dock to search for Jonas and his boat, the Lucky Lady. Wyatt finally joined me on the weathered wood of the dock. “Zeke said you might need backup?”
“Yeah” I nodded. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I don’t think it’s good.” I looked over at my pack mate. Wyatt and his twin brother Wes were the tallest members of our pack, which intimated most people, but Wyatt had always been a gentle giant. He could definitely fight, but only if there was no other way. “Thanks for coming down.”
“No problem. Gets me out of covering the fruit trees for the night on the farm.”
I chuckled and patted my shoulder holster underneath my jacket. “You ready?”
He nodded and he lifted his jacket over his hip, exposing the butt of his revolver. “Yep.”
We bumped fists and headed down the dock.
The hunt was on.
CHAPTER 3
Winter
Ilooked upfrom my laptop as the back door opened and Lillian Baer, the owner of the Crow’s Nest, came into the workroom. Her warm smile brought out the creases around her eyes. Our previous coven leader came in almost every day, even though she paid coven members to run it for her most of the time.
Her long silver hair was in a braid coiled on top of her head. She removed her red wool scarf. “I guess the cold is keeping people away?”
“We’ve had a few sales today, but it’s definitely off from the usual frantic Christmas shoppers.” I pointed to the bag she set on the worktable. “What’s that?”
She took off her red leather gloves and reached into the bag. “An amazing find at an estate sale.”
The small unmarked brown cardboard box with water stains on the side didn’t look like much of a treasure to me, but what did I know? She opened the box and took out a…broach? The bronze edges were tarnished, but the raven in the center was still clear and finely carved in the metal. It would make a perfect addition to the crow collection case in the center of the store.
She turned it over. “Do you see it?” Her perfectly manicured red nail pointed to Latin words engraved into the back. “Magicae cum illis invenietis.” Her dark brown eyes met mine. “You will find magic with them.”
My brows pinched together at her translation. “Is it a coven token?”
Lillian shook her head. “No.” She placed it in my hand. “Speak my name.”
“Lillian Baer.” Electricity zapped my hand like I’d just touched an electric fence. My jaw dropped. “It shocked me.”
She nodded. “Now say the name of a non-witch.”
“Jackson Walker.” Before I could analyze why he was the first person who popped into my head, I realized the broach was cold in my hand. “Nothing happened.”
