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If his first victim was indeed Aunt Frankie, the little I remembered of her said she’d valued her intellectual achievements over magical, and our wraith had taken her brain. Deni had prided herself on her fitness and her physical achievements, and her life force had been sucked away by a leech. Juli had always boasted that he would never let his heart, or his emotions, get in the way of a good deal, and now he had no heart to worry about.
The wraith’s actions might well be based on revenge, but he was also very clearly killing them in a way that would have the most effect on them and on me.
“Why do this?” Saska waved a hand toward my brother. “Why use completely different methods to kill each person?”
“It’s a message,” I said bluntly. “He’s telling me that he’s done his homework and knows exactly what each member of my family prides themselves on.”
And that homework had been completed well before I’d gone through that first barrier. He’d obviously been tracking my family for some time to know these sorts of details.
“Ah, now that does make sense,” Saska said. “But it also makes me wonder what he has planned for your mother and your father.”
Given both my father and mother valued themselves on their magical prowess, I had a fairly good idea.
“Let’s hope we can stop this bastard before we find out,” I muttered.
“At this point, you’d have to say the odds are with the wraith rather than us.” Her expression was a mix of annoyance and frustration. “I take it you never saw how he got off the island?”
I shook my head. “It probably had something to do with the explosion that erased his magic; maybe he used it to conceal the fact he had a boat waiting on the opposite side of the island to the jetty.”
“Do wraiths actually need boats? Ghosts can cross water, can’t they?”
“Not in most cases. They’re generally restricted by the location of their death and by moving water. But wraiths are very different to your average ghost, and it’s pretty obvious he’s not bound by the same rules.”
Saska grimaced. “Well, if he did use a non-magical means of transport, Reggie will have spotted and followed him.”
If he was, I hoped he was also maintaining his distance. The wraith was probably aware that the HCI had shifters working for them.
Saska got her phone out. “I need to call this in and then take some photos. You got anything in that purse of yours to treat that wound on your arm? You’re dripping blood all over the place.”
I glanced down. The wound was ragged and deep enough to see muscle and even a hint of bone. He’d obviously missed anything major, given I could still move all my fingers, but I suspected it hadn’t been luck but rather deliberation. The wraith didn’t want me dead yet. He wanted me frustrated and angry and maybe even sick—a thought backed by the fact that the wound was already festering around the edges. I had no idea what diseases or foulness a wolf raised from the dead might carry, but those yellowish globs forming deeper within the wound did not bode well for my health. Thank God I still had some holy water with me.
“I do have a small first aid kit in my purse.”
She half smiled. “Most people wouldn’t.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I’m definitely seeing that.”
I smiled and pulled my sleeve over my hand to catch the worst of the bleeding, then returned my gaze to my brother. In all truth, the rising anger and despair came more from the fact that I’d failed to save another sibling than anything deeper emotionally. I had no desire to cry for him as I had Cat, but maybe the emotional impact would hit me later. I did feel sorry that his kids would now grow up without their father, but other than that? Nada. I was numb. Worse than numb, perhaps, because there was a large part of me that just didn’t care.
I tore my gaze away again. “After I’ve treated the wound, I’ll do a ground search of the wider area and see if there’s any other evidence to find.”
“Don’t touch it if you do find something.”
I half smiled. “I know the drill, trust me on that.”
She nodded and made her call. I moved well away from the stone circle then dug out a bottle of holy water and poured it carefully into the wound in an effort not to waste a drop. The water bubbled and steamed almost instantly, and pain erupted. This was the first time using blessed water as a sterilizer actually hurt, but I guessed it was also the first time I’d used it against a wound caused by a zombie.
I kept dribbling the water on until the pain eased and the wound stopped bubbling, then carefully recorked the bottle. There wasn’t that much left, but I wasn’t about to waste it.
Once it was tucked safely back into my purse, I bandaged the wound, put the first aid kit away, and then began a studious sweep of the area. A few minutes later, I spotted something glittering in a small, blackened circle.
I walked over and squatted on my heels. It was several small shards of glass, though the rainbow reflections that ran across their surfaces told me they were most likely the remnants of a diamond spell stone. While Belle and I used quartz because it was far cheaper, most witches went for diamonds simply because they held any spell placed on them in a more precise and powerful way. They weren’t indestructible, though, despite what most thought. Put enough force through them or on them, and they could be shattered or destroyed. That’s obviously what had happened here.
I held a hand just above the remnants, but the pulse of whatever spell had been cast upon them had fled. Nor was there any indication that our wraith had even held the spell stone long enough to leave a spark I could trace.
I rose and kept walking, finding four more burned out circles. I suspected they were the source points for the fog we’d encountered, but the destruction was so complete that we’d never actually be certain of that.
