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“I’m thinking Monty might not agree with that statement.”
“Monty is insane. We all know this.”
“You’re marrying him, so what does that make you?”
“A sucker for a man with a hot bod and a heart of gold who adores me as much as I adore him.” She glanced around as the bell above the door chimed and the man in question strolled in. “Of course, I’m not sure the café or I can afford his appetite for cake.”
She said it loud enough for him to hear, and he grinned. “Too late to retreat, my dear witch. You’re stuck with me and my appetite now.”
The devilish twinkle in his eyes suggested he wasnottalking about cake. She laughed, caught his face between her hands, and kissed him. “What are you doing here so early? Afternoon tea is another hour away.”
“I figured I’d come and see how Liz was feeling—”
“And whether I was up to tracking Jaqueline,” I finished dryly.
“You wound me to the core, but yes, there is also that.”
I grabbed my mug of hot chocolate and pushed away from the bench. “I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
He followed me into the reading room. I placed my mug on the table, then moved across to the bookcase and opened the hidden compartment that held the specially designed vacuum-sealed box. We generally used it to keep the various leafy herbs we sometimes needed for spells fresh, but it was also useful in situations like this, where air could have a detrimental effect on an item.
I pushed the portable sealing pump to one side, tugged the box out, and returned to the table. The glove and its dark contents sat in the middle of the glass container, looking deceptively innocuous. I released the sealing plug, then opened the lid.
“Anything?” Monty immediately asked.
“Not yet.”
I carefully touched the glove. No pulse of power. No warmth. Nothing to indicate there was anything within the glove other than soil. I untied the top of the glove then shoved one finger into the dirt… and found the faintest pulse of darkness. My psi senses immediately flared to life and leapt away, following the link until it found the woman who’d shed the blood. The connection was tenuous and faint, but information flowed down the line regardless. Through her eyes, I saw cracks of light peeking past the edges of a torn and dirty-looking curtain. The room in which she sat was dark but not empty. There were several worn chairs scattered about, and a couple of cobweb-hung bunk beds, all of them occupied. They were little more than shadows, but the anticipation that pulsed from them ran high. Higher than the seething river of pain and anger emanating from the woman I was connected to.
From beyond the dark confines of the building came the whisper of rustling leaves and the distant trickle of water. A heartbeat later, three sharp, controlled cracks echoed. The shadows stirred, and their voices rose in brief conversation that I couldn’t catch, though they seemed unconcerned. Then the last vestiges of power bled from the blood and the connection died.
I swore softly and tossed the glove into the nearby rubbish bin. “They’re in a cabin that’s surrounded by trees and close to what sounds like a creek.”
“Which isn’t really helpful given there would be tons of places matching that description in this reservation.”
“I know. Sorry.” I picked up my hot chocolate and took a drink. “Does Castle Rock have a shooting range?”
“Hang on and I’ll check.”
He got out his phone and put Google to good use. “We do. It’s over Walmer Forest way, right on the edge of town. Why?”
I had no idea where Walmer Forest was, but that was beside the point. “Because I heard what vaguely sounded like rifle or gunshots, and given only the rangers are allowed to carry—”
“Farmers are allowed to own guns,” Monty cut in.
“I know but—” I shrugged. “The shots were too controlled, if that makes sense. If a farmer was shooting at a fox or some other sort of vermin, wouldn’t the shots be more rapid fire?”
“Depends on the farmer and weapon, I would think.” He motioned to my mug. “Finish that, and we’ll head out and check the area.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going out demon hunting with Ashworth and Eli?”
“Of course I am.” His expression implied he was offended by my suggesting he wouldn’t, though amusement creased the corners of his eyes. “But there’s a good four hours to fill in before then, so we might as well do something useful.”
“Meaning you’re voluntarily missing afternoon tea?” I reached forward and pressed the back of my hand against his forehead. “I’m not feeling a temperature…”
He laughed and knocked my hand away. “Thereissuch a thing as takeaway, you know.”
“And while you arrange that, I’ll go upstairs and don more appropriate shoes.”
