by Keri Arthur
I grinned. “Even they have to admit helpfulness is a rarity.”
“They wish to remind you that they are not here to provide information we are more than capable of uncovering for ourselves.” Her tone was haughty—an echo of whatever spirit she was listening to.
While most witches only had one spirit guide, Belle usually had at least two, but sometimes as many as four. Neither of us really knew why that was the case, although it might have something to do with the fact she was an extremely strong spirit talker.
I frowned down at the body. “Why do they think it’s a skin walker? Aren’t they extremely rare here in Australia?”
“Yes, which is why they mention the possibility—it’s likely we'll have to search the US witch archives to find anything about them.”
“We won’t be doing anything of the sort. As you keep reminding me, that’s Monty’s job, not ours.” I hesitated. “I don’t suppose they can tell us why they think it’s a skin walker? From the little I know about them, they’re a form of evil witch who can turn into, possess, or disguise themselves as animals. That’s not what’s happening here.”
Her gaze became slightly distracted as she listened to the other side. “No, but there are legends of skin walkers through many cultures, even if they are not known by that name. It is just a matter of finding the variation we might be dealing with.”
“Which means another search through your gran’s books, I’m thinking.”
“Possibly, although if skin walkers are as rare as the spirits are saying, then it’s unlikely she’ll have anything of note.”
The distant sound of sirens began to cut through the stillness of the night. The rangers weren't far away. “Do you—or the spirits—think the two skinning deaths are in any way linked to the quasi vampire attack from last night?”
Belle hesitated, and then wrinkled her nose. “If the skinnings are being done by a walker, it’s unlikely, as they don’t feed on blood. Why?”
I shrugged. “It just seems weird that we’re now dealing with three supernatural murders so close together.”
“Not really,” she said. “Not given the amount of time the wellspring was left unguarded. In fact, this sort of thing is likely to start happening more often.”
Which was exactly what I feared, and also something we could do absolutely nothing about.
The sirens abruptly cut out and the ensuing silence somehow felt heavier. “Who answered when you called the rangers?”
“Aiden. He wasn’t happy.”
“He never is when it comes to supernatural crimes.”
Belle snorted softly. “Well, he’s only got the damn council to blame.”
“He knows that.” I paused. “Did he say who he was sending out here?”
“No.”
The wisp’s light abruptly went out, throwing us into darkness. A few seconds later, Aiden stepped through the scrub and strode across the clearing.
“How did you get here?” I said. “I’ve got your truck’s keys.”
“Mac picked me up.” He stopped beside me, his shoulder lightly brushing mine, sending a wave of warmth rolling through the rest of me. “This looks like a repeat of what you found at the cold store.”
“Except this time we also found the skin.” I motioned toward the trees. “Monty’s keeping an eye on it while looking for energy spores.”
Aiden glanced at me, eyebrows raised. “The thing that did this has spores? Meaning it’s some sort of plant?”
I couldn’t help smiling. “No, but there are some supernatural beings who give off detectable energy patterns, and each one is unique to that particular demon or spirit.”
“So if he finds a spore, we know what we’re dealing with?”
“In theory, yes.”
“Good.” He glanced toward the trees, his nostrils flaring. “The skin in those trees smells older than this body.”
“Yes, although it doesn’t look as if it's in the process of decomposing.”
“I'm presuming, then, that there's some sort of magic involved?”
“If there's magic preserving the skin, I didn't feel it.” I shrugged. “But that doesn't mean Monty hasn’t.”
He grunted. “Do you and Belle want to head home? I’ll grab your statements when I drop by in the morning for my keys and breakfast.”
I nodded. Truth be told, now that the adrenaline of the hunt was drifting away, weariness was well and truly settling in. “Have you met Monty yet? Do you want me to do the introductions?”
“I’m a big lad—
“So I believe,” Belle murmured.
“And I can introduce myself just fine,” he continued, obviously ignoring her comment. “Mac and Ciara are almost here—do you want an escort back to your car?”
“No, we’ll be able to find our way back.” I rose onto tippy toes to kiss his cheek, but he turned and my lips caught his instead. It was a heated but all too brief moment.
“Go to sleep,” he said, voice gruff. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
I licked the taste of him on my lips—a taste that was a lovely mix of coffee, heat, and desire—then turned and walked away. It didn’t take us long to get back to the car, but by the time we got home, I was yawning loudly and could barely keep my eyes open. I had a quick, hot shower to wash the stink of death and decay from my skin, then all but fell into bed. If I dreamed, I certainly didn’t remember it.
The smell of bacon woke me the next morning. A quick look at my phone told me it was just after five, which was way earlier than our usual wake-up time on a working day. I stretched the kinks out of my muscles and then flung off the blankets and quickly pulled on jeans and a dark green tank top—my current wardrobe of choice when working in the café.
As I clattered down the stairs, I said, “You’re up early this morning.”
“Heard Aiden’s truck starting up, and had a mild panic attack thinking someone was stealing it.” She came out of the kitchen carrying two plates filled with bacon, eggs, and toast. “Thankfully, it was Aiden rather than a thief, but it was pointless going back to sleep so I started the prep instead.”
I headed across to the coffee machine to make her a coffee and me a hot chocolate. “Did he say why he was here so early?”
“Another dead body, apparently.”
“Fate has obviously decided to greet Monty with a baptism of fire.” Or death, as the case was. “I don’t suppose he gave any details?”
“No. He did say he’d exchange the breakfast date for a dinner one, if that was okay with you.”
It was, and not just because dinner would inevitably lead to bed but also the fact I’d avoided having to explain my past to him for another few hours.
“Five supernatural murders in almost as many days is a little extreme, even for this reservation.”
Belle’s gaze shot to mine. “Where did you get five from? If we include the one he’s investigating now, it’s four by my reckoning.”
I hesitated, but the certainty that if this was another murder, then that made five rather than four wouldn’t go away. I shrugged, picked up the two filled mugs, and walked over to the table. “It’s not like the prophetic part of my soul is renowned for giving details. It’s even more obstinate than your spirit guides.”
“Ain’t that the truth.” She wrinkled her nose. “You know, I think I’m going to miss not being in the thick of the action.”
I snorted. “May I remind you of how close to death we’ve come on a number of occasions?”
She grinned. “The whole death thing aside, it did liven up our days—even you have to admit that.”
“I can live without that sort of excitement, thank you very much.” I tucked into my breakfast. “But I really don’t believe we’re off the hook when it comes to crime investigations. Katie’s the reservation’s self-appointed guardian, and I’m currently the only one able to communicate with her. We’ll be dragged into events, willing or not.”
As if to emphasize my point, my phone rang, the sound sharp in the brie
f silence. The tone told me it wasn’t someone I contacted regularly and, with my pulse skipping into overdrive, I thrust to my feet and walked around the counter to grab it. The number that popped up on the screen was Alice Dale’s.
“I hope she’s not ringing to accuse us of holding back information,” Belle said. “Because it wasn’t like we had much choice.”
“No.” I took a deep breath then swished the screen across to answer the call. “This is an early call, Alice—are you okay?”
“Oh God, yes.” The joy voice was so fierce it practically vibrated down the line. “I just thought I’d ring and let you know that my mom is home—I was worrying over nothing, obviously.”
Dread curled through me. Alice’s mom couldn’t be home—her body lay in the morgue sans its skin. The rangers might not have formally identified her as yet, but I had absolutely no doubt that the body we found in the dumpster was that of Mrs. Dale.
So if she’d suddenly turned up at her house, either she’d risen from the dead or something else was going on.
“Have you talked to her yet?” I said, trying to keep the urgency from my voice. “Or gone to see her?”
“No—I was just driving past, just on the off chance that she’d come back, and saw her peeking out of the blinds.”
It was far too early to be out for a drive, but I guessed if it’d been my mom who was missing, I might have done the same thing. My relationship with my mother might have deteriorated once I’d hit my teens, but she was still my mom and, despite everything, I did still love her.
The same could not be said about my father.
“Are you sure it was her?”
“Of course. Why?”
“No real reason.” I hesitated, that sense of dread getting stronger. “I’ve still got her necklace, Alice—would it be okay if I drop by in a few minutes and return it?”
“I can come by the café this afternoon—”
“I’ve got to go to the wholesaler’s to pick up some supplies for the café before it opens, so it’s really not a problem,” I cut in. “Saves you the hassle.”
“Sure.” She seemed surprised rather than suspicious. “I’ll go in and put the kettle on, if you’d like.”
Don’t, I wanted to scream. That’s not your mom; it’s someone—something—else. But I had no proof, and Alice wasn’t likely to believe me anyway. All I could do was get there as soon as I could.
“That would be lovely, thanks.”
My voice was edged and a little too sharp, but she didn’t seem to notice. She gave me the address, said a quick “see you soon,” and then hung up. I spun and raced to the reading room. Thankfully, I'd simply dumped the backpack again rather than unpacking it—a fact that gave me a few precious extra seconds.
“You might want to ring Monty,” Belle said, as I came back out. “His place is on the way, and that’s what he’s here for after all.”
“Could you make the call? Tell him I’ll be there in three minutes.”
Her answering grin held a little too much delight. But then, Monty had been a well-known night owl with a long history of arriving late for the first session of school. I couldn’t imagine that would have changed greatly over the last twelve years as, for the most part, government and witch departments up in Canberra worked on flexible hours.
I grabbed my purse and car keys, then headed out. By the time I got across to Monty’s, he was—rather surprisingly—already waiting out the front. But as he climbed into the front passenger seat, it became very obvious his brain hadn’t yet kicked into gear.
“Your shirt is inside out.” I pulled back out onto the road. “And you’ve different colored sneakers on.”
“Is it any wonder?” He scrubbed a hand across his bristly face. “It’s almost indecent to be up at this hour.”
“Next time, I’ll bring one of Belle’s wake-up tonics for you.”
He grunted. “I’m not sure it would help, but I suppose it couldn’t hurt, either.”
I grinned. He hadn’t yet tasted her tonics, and I wasn’t about to spoil the surprise—or Belle’s delight—by mentioning just how foul they could smell and taste.
“What are we racing toward again?” he added. “I think I remember Belle mentioning something about a dead person coming back to life but nothing else really sunk in.”
I explained the situation and then added, “It may be nothing but—”
“Your gut says otherwise,” he finished for me. “Aiden’s already mentioned just how helpful your psi abilities have been when it comes to tracking down perps, so I’m not about to discount them.”
“Perps?” I glanced at him. “Seriously?”
He smiled. “I do love me some crime dramas. Right now, it’s starting to feel like I’m in my very own.”
“And I suspect you might not feel so happy about it after the first few fights for your life.”
“Probably not, but no matter what happens, it’s still far better than sitting behind a desk cataloging other witches’ shitty spells.” He paused. “Of course, it would be preferable if said perps chose better hours to do their thing.”
“Up until now, most of them have.” I flicked on the blinker, braked to allow several cars to go past in the opposite direction, and then swung right. “Isn’t it rather unusual for a spirit to be active this close to dawn? I thought most of them preferred the comfort of darkness?”
“They do, but that doesn’t mean they can’t move around in daylight if necessary.”
Which was not something I really wanted confirmed. “Were you able to find any clue as to what we might be dealing with?”
He shook his head. “Tells like spores tend to fade fairly rapidly, so unless you’re on the scene very quickly, there’s not much hope.”
I grunted and slowed enough to check house numbers; we were at the wrong end of the street. I accelerated again. “So you have no clue what killed the woman last night?”
“Aside from her being skinned, you mean?”
I glanced at him in annoyance and his amusement grew.
“There did appear to be what looked like burn marks on the heels of the victim’s feet,” he added, “but I couldn’t say for sure they’re supernatural in origin.”
“But you think they are?” I slowed down again as we neared number fifty-one. There were two cars in the driveway—a gray Hyundai SUV and a white Ford Focus.
“I’ve absolutely no credible reason for believing so, but yes, I do.” He leaned forward. “I can’t see or feel anything wrong in that house.”
“No.”
I found a parking spot several houses further up the road. The wind whispered around me as we climbed out, its touch filled with nothing more than the promise of warmth. The street was silent and there was little noise coming from the nearby houses, although I could see TV screens flickering through several windows. No sound came from Mrs. Dale’s house and all the curtains were drawn.
Trepidation stirred anew. I slung my pack over my shoulder and joined Monty at the front of the car. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” He frowned at the house for several seconds. “I still can’t feel anything out of place, yet there’s something about that house that is making me very uneasy.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Then we’d better get over there and see what’s going on.”
He hitched his pack higher onto his shoulder then strode quickly down the footpath, forcing me to run to catch up. I touched the hood of the SUV as I passed it; it was still warm. Mrs. Dale—or rather, the thing that was now impersonating her—couldn’t have gotten here much before her daughter.
Monty took the steps two at a time, then strode across to the front door and knocked loudly. The sound echoed inside the house, but there was no immediate response.
The sense that something was very wrong grew stronger. I silently gathered a repelling spell around my fingers as Monty knocked again.
Still no response.
He looked at
me. “What do you think?”
“I think we need to go inside and see why neither Alice nor her mom are answering.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to call the rangers? There’re laws about breaking and entering, remember.”
“We’re in a werewolf reservation that has in recent months been overrun with supernatural events.” My voice was dry. “I think it’s fair to say they’re not going to be bothered with us entering unlawfully if our suspicions pan out.”
“And if they don’t?”
I grinned. “I also happen to be sleeping with the head ranger.”
Which wouldn’t actually help me if I did commit a serious crime—Aiden was by nature a law-abiding man and very unlikely to ever take a bribe, be it sexual or monetary in nature—but Monty was new here and wouldn’t yet know that.
Monty snorted softly and energy stirred—a force that was bright, sharp, and so strong it burned across my skin like fire. He wove his spell around his fingers in much the same manner as I had the repelling spell, and then launched it. The spell’s energy caressed the door with a finesse that only came with training, briefly splaying out across the wood before merging into it. There was a soft click, and the door slowly opened.
The hallway beyond was dark and silent.
Monty took one step inside and then stopped. “While there’s no feel of magic, there’s definitely something here—some kind of foul energy.”
I squeezed in beside him and unleashed my “other” senses—the ones that seemed more attuned to the evil forces of the world. Malevolence stirred through the house, a wash of foulness that already seemed to be fading.
“I think whatever was here has already gone.”
He glanced down at me sharply. “What makes you say that?”
“My psychic senses were always stronger than my magic, remember?” I paused. “What I’d really like to know is what has happened to Alice, given her car is still here.”
“I guess there’s only one way we’re ever going to find that out.”
“Indeed.” I motioned him forward. “You're the official witch, so lead the way, cousin.”
He snorted, but nevertheless cautiously moved further into the house. I followed, every sense alert, the repelling spell swirling lazily around my fingers in readiness.
