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No, but it is why he’s insisting the house we buy has a pool. He’s planning sexy water times.
Of course he is. I pulled on some shorts and a boob-supporting crop top, then slipped on a pair of runners and headed downstairs.Am I swinging around to pick you or Monty up?
Monty. He is reservation witch, after all. Besides, if things play out the way they usually do, you’ll be out all night and won’t be in a fit state to open the café.
Maybe this will be the one time my psychic senses are wrong and there’s nothing nasty happening.
Belle snorted, a sound that echoed sharply down the psychic lines.The odds of that happening are about the same as Karleen having an epiphany and giving you and Aiden her blessing.
Miracles do occasionally happen.Though I wasn’t holding out for one in this particular case. Karleen’s hatred of witches stemmed from the rape and subsequent death of her older sister when Karleen was barely fourteen, and Gabe’s actions here with Katie had only reinforced that hatred.
I grabbed my keys and headed out the back door.Be at your place in five.
I’ll roust Monty.
And would have great pleasure in doing so if the relish in her mental tone was anything to go by. Obviously, the heat was not affectinghisability to sleep.
I jumped into our SUV—which remained adorned with over a dozen bullet holes thanks to the very human, granny-killing creep we’d encountered almost a month ago now—and headed over to Monty’s. He was waiting out the front of his townhouse, two travel mugs in hand. He was a typical royal witch in looks, with short crimson hair that gleamed like dark fire and bright silver eyes. He also looked entirely too alert for someone who’d been sound asleep only a few minutes ago. But then, Monty had taken to monster hunting like a duck to water. I suspected that, unlike the rest of us, he wasn’t looking forward to the time when the influx of evil finally eased.
I stopped in front of him, then leaned across to open the door. He handed me the two mugs, then jumped in and did up his seat belt. I shoved the one that smelled like hot chocolate into the cup holder and handed him back the coffee.
He took a sip of his drink, then placed his mug next to mine. “So, what are we chasing this time?”
“Don’t know. I’m sensing wisps of evil and magic, but I can’t say whether the two are connected.”
“Maybe your radar is sharpening and you’re sensing trouble before it hits for a change.”
I flicked on the blinker and swung right. “Or maybe whatever I’m sensing is simply too far away to get a handle on.”
“I think I prefer my suspicion to yours.”
So did I, but it probably wasn’t realistic. The inner wild magic might be strengthening my psi skills, but there was a vast difference between psychometry and foresight. While I did sometimes have prophetic dreams, I hadn’t yet suffered many waking ones—and hoped it was a situation that never changed.
I turned left a few streets up and followed the road around toward the old train station. But the closer I got to it, the stronger the caress of magic, and the more certain I became of its source.
And it certainlywasn’tthe old train station.
“I’m not liking the feel ofthat,” Monty said, after a few seconds. “Though the magic does feel oddly familiar.”
I glanced at him. “I suspect it’s coming from Émigré.”
“Neither the council nor—more importantly—the brigade have mentioned anything about Émigré reopening or Maelle returning, and they surely would have if either had happened.”
The brigade was a group of retired ladies who met a couple of times a week in our café to gossip about local events. They rarely missed a juicy morsel of news and were usually aware of problems within the reservation well before the council or the local newspapers.
“The council never told anyone Maelle was a vampire either, so that’s not entirely surprising.”
“Yes, but given all the problems Clayton’s murder caused, I’d have thought they’d be reluctant to allow her back in.”
“I guess it would depend on the sort of contract she had with them.”
Because there would be a contract. Maelle had invested too much time and money getting her business up and running not to protect it legally—especially when vampires generally weren’t a welcome addition to most communities. She’d been upfront with the council about her “situation” from the beginning, however, and had sworn an oath that she would feed on only the willing while in the reservation.
It was an oath she magicallycouldn’tbreak.
Which was why she’d taken Claytonoutof the reservation before she’d slowly torn him apart, then danced through his bloody remains. I might not have witnessed the death or the dance, but I’d been told enough details, and knew Maelle well enough, to glean what had happened.
A tiny but extremely vicious part of me would always wish I’d witnessed it, if only because I’d dreamed for so long of seeing both him and my father pay for what they’d done.
