by Arthur, Keri
“Does he know who it is yet?”
“Apparently not.” I hesitated as a second message came through. “Oh, great—there’s not one witch arriving, but two. The second is a possible candidate for the reservation position. He’s to be interviewed by the council.”
“Because things weren’t already interesting enough,” Belle said, voice dry.
“Apparently not.” I shoved the phone away then finished my coffee and swung my purse back over my shoulder. “I’ll run upstairs and get changed, then come back down and help you.”
Belle nodded. I dumped my clothes in the washing basket then changed to jeans and a T-shirt and headed back down. The café was busy all day, with spare tables being snapped up almost before the previous patrons had fully left. Which, with tomorrow night being Christmas Eve, was a good thing. We were closed for three days—the two traditional days of Christmas and Boxing Day, as well as the reservation-wide holiday on the twenty-seventh—but busy days like this gave our bottom line a nice little boost.
And the congratulations we kept getting over being allowed to stay were much-needed morale boosts. Our cake prowess had obviously spread farther than we’d figured.
We closed at three. By the time we’d cleaned up and done the prep for the next day, it was close to five.
Belle gathered the dirty tea towels and kitchen cloths to take up to the washing machine. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard from Aiden yet.”
I wrinkled my nose. “He said there’d probably be a chunk of paperwork to do and that I shouldn’t expect to hear from him until at least seven. You want a drink?”
She nodded and disappeared down the corridor to dump the washing into the machine. I grabbed a couple of glasses and opened a bottle of white wine, then walked across to the table.
As I did, energy whisked into the room, bright and sharp, and filled with an odd sort of cognizance.
Not just wild magic, but the portion controlled by Aiden’s sister.
It spun around me, filled with an odd sort of urgency as something clattered to the floor. I glanced down sharply and saw a watch sitting next to my feet. A man’s watch.
“What the...?” I bent and picked it up.
Images and emotion hit, so thick and fast that I didn’t have a chance to throw my shields up before they dragged me deep into the mind of the other.
They are coming. Still coming. Running isn’t losing them, isn’t shaking them. I can hear them, laughing, joking. Anticipating. Heat. In my body, in my heart, in my brain. Legs won’t obey. I fall. Still they come, still they laugh. Their excitement fills the air, thick in my nostrils. I try to get up. Can’t. Try to tear at them with teeth. Can’t. Immobilized. Burning. Silver flashes. Skin peels. The pain. Dear God, the pain….
The watch was wrenched from my hand and the images stopped. My legs went from underneath me, and I had to grip the edge of the table to keep upright. For several seconds, I didn’t move. Couldn’t move. My heart was racing so hard it felt like it was about to tear out of my chest, and my throat was thick with horror.
“Here,” Belle said. “Drink this.”
She shoved a filled glass under my nose. Whiskey, not wine. I gripped it with shaking fingers and drank it all. It burned all the way down and made my head spin, but didn’t entirely erase the lingering remnants of utter, utter agony.
“What the fuck was that?” Belle’s voice was grim.
“I don’t know.” I stared at the watch with trepidation. As much as I didn’t want to pick it up again, I’d have to if I wanted to understand what was going on. I held my glass out and Belle topped it up.
“Then where did the damn thing come from?”
“The wild magic brought it in.”
“Meaning Katie rather than the truly wild stuff, I’m guessing.”
I nodded and tossed back the whiskey. Then I put the glass back on the table and reached for the watch. But I didn’t pick it up. I didn’t need to. Abject suffering pulsed from it in thick waves. I took a deep breath and glanced grimly at Belle.
“I’m obviously meant to help the watch’s owner.”
“Given the agony I felt—which was only the backwash of what hit you—I’m doubting that’s actually possible.” She glared at the watch for a second and then picked it up. “I’ll get the silk gloves and your kit. You’d better call Aiden.”
I took a deep breath then pushed away from the table and walked a little unsteadily—thanks to the fact my legs were still shaky—across to the counter to retrieve my phone.
Aiden answered almost immediately. “I’m hoping this is impatience, but given every other time you’ve rung me unexpectedly has been because there’s trouble, I’m not holding out hope.”
“Wise man.” I took another deep breath but it still didn’t do a lot to help the inner tension. “You need to get over here ASAP.”
“Do we need the truck?”
“Yes.”
“Be there in two.”
He hung up. I shoved the phone into my pocket and glanced around as Belle came out of the reading room. The watch was now safely encased in a silk bag, but she nevertheless gave me a silk glove. The combination should mute the vibes rolling off the watch while still allowing me to track the owner through it.
Once I’d put on the glove, she placed the bagged watch on the counter, then handed me the pack. “I’ve stuck in your spell stones, a couple of warding potions, and my silver knife.”
“Thanks.” I slung it over my shoulder and then said, “Could you ring Ashworth? He’ll need to know something has happened.”
She frowned. “It’s not as if he can do anything given he’d be at the airport—”
“I know, but he’s still acting reservation witch and whatever is happening out there involves magic.”
“The same magic that our dead witch was creating? Because the timing of the two situations suggests they could be connected.”
I hesitated. “I can’t say for certain, but I don’t think so. It doesn’t feel as dark.”
“Then I guess that’s something.”
I swept the watch into my hand and tried to ignore the agony rolling off it.
Belle followed me across the shop to the front door. “Ashworth will want to know how that watch came into our possession.”
I shrugged. “I’ll tell him the truth—the wild magic gave it to me. He doesn’t actually have to know it was the portion infused with Katie’s soul.”
Belle grunted. “Sooner or later, he will find out. Or the new reservation witch will. And that will just up Canberra’s interest in this place.”
“Maybe the new witch will hold the reservation’s interest ahead of Canberra’s.” Outside, a car horn sounded. “I’ll keep you updated.”
“Do. And be careful.”
“Always. Make sure you lock the door.”
A smile touched her lips. “Always.”
She did just that the second I stepped outside. The day seemed colder despite the sunshine and the heat in the air. I had no doubt it was a feeling caused by the vibes rolling from the silk-wrapped watch. Vibes that held the gathering chill of death.
I jumped into Aiden’s truck, shoved the backpack onto the floor, and then said, “Go.”
He immediately pulled out and hit the accelerator. I dropped the watch into my lap and pulled on the seat belt. “Turn right onto the Midland.”
He did so, tires screaming, and then motioned to the watch. “That watch looks vaguely familiar—who does it belong to?”
His nostrils flared as he spoke but if the owner’s scent lingered on the watch, then he either didn’t know him or wasn’t about to say.
“I don’t know. Your sister gave it to me.”
“My sister?” Confusion briefly crossed his expression but was quickly replaced by understanding. “Katie.”
“Yeah. And wild magic isn’t supposed to be able to interact—in any way—with either people or an object without direction from a witch, so it’s just more evidence to the
fact that Gabe’s spell has indeed made her this reservation’s protector.”
“A protector who only interacts with you,” he said, voice grim. “And to think we’d come close to evicting you—”
“I think it’s a fairly safe bet Katie would somehow have made her feelings known had that actually happened.”
“She never was one for keeping her mouth shut.” He paused, and sorrow stirred through his aura. “Except at the end of her life.”
I reached out with my free hand and touched his leg. “She’s happy, Aiden. She’s where she wants to be, doing what she wanted to do.”
He gave me a lopsided smile. “I know. I just wish I could talk to her, even if for only a few seconds. Left onto the freeway or onto the overpass?”
I briefly gripped the watch tighter. “Over.”
We sped through a roundabout and then took a sweeping curve to the left. This area seemed to be a mix of new and old houses on larger blocks, but the death rolling from the watch still held some distance. Whatever was happening to the watch’s owner, it wasn’t happening here.
We quickly moved out of the residential area and into scrublands. As we began to climb a long hill, I said, “Right at the road near the top of this.”
He did so, the tires once again screaming in protest. “This road skirts the back edge of my pack’s territory.”
I glanced at him sharply. “Does this watch belong to a pack member?”
“The faint scent emanating from it suggests it does.”
“Would you be notified if any pack members were missing or under threat?”
“Normally, yes, but I’m gathering this threat is still eventuating.”
I hesitated. “The threat has been and gone. Only death is gathering now.”
He swore and pressed the accelerator harder, though the big truck didn’t have a whole lot more speed to give. We swept past the raised banks of a reservoir and then around another left turn.
“Right at the next road,” I said.
“Which is another of our boundary roads.” His voice was grim.
I didn’t say anything. There was little point given I had no idea yet where this trail would end or who was involved. We sped down the narrowing road; the sweeping fields of grapevines on one side and thick scrub on the other were both little more than a green blur. We skidded around sharp bends and roared through gullies shadowed by gum trees that arched high overhead. And still the watch pulsed, an agony that went on and on.
“Left or right,” Aiden said, as we approached a T-intersection terrifyingly fast.
I hesitated. The watch was finally beginning to lose its life, which meant the owner had finally stopped fighting. But agony was still his to hold. I shuddered and said, “Left. Are we still on the edge of your pack’s territory?”
“No.”
Which didn’t mean anything. I knew it. He knew it.
We continued down another small road. There were open fields on one side, wilderness on the other. The pulse in the watch was fading faster. I ripped off the silk glove and gripped the watch tightly. Horror squeezed through me, making my breath catch and my heart ache fiercely. Dear God, the pain….
We swept up a gentle hill and around a slow curve to the right.
“Here,” I said abruptly. “Stop here.”
He obeyed so fast the truck slewed around sideways and ended up facing the wrong way on the shoulder of the road. I grabbed my backpack and scrambled out, and then paused briefly to get my bearings from the watch. After checking there were no oncoming cars, I raced into the scrub and trees on the other side of the road. Aiden was a step behind me, his tension filling the air, a thick heat that had my nerves jumping and tingling.
The ground began to rise, becoming increasingly rocky. My left foot rolled over a loose stone, and I would have fallen had Aiden not grabbed me.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” I ran on, doing my best to ignore the twinge in my ankle. We reached the top of the hill, but all I could see was more scrub, trees, and rocks, sweeping downward. But we were close now. So close.
But so was death.
I swore and plunged down the hill. Aiden remained at my side, grabbing my elbow several times to steady me as I slipped.
“I can smell water.” He paused, and then added, voice flat and yet somehow dangerous, “And raw meat.”
“Whoever it is, they’re just up ahead.”
I forced my feet on, despite the instinctive urge to slow, to not confront what waited ahead.
But I couldn’t let Aiden face it alone. Not if my suspicion was right and there was magic involved.
The trees retreated with startling abruptness, revealing a clearing that was dominated by a half-empty dam.
On the edge of the high bank on the far side was a red form. It took me a moment to realize it was a dog.
A wolf.
One that had been totally and utterly skinned.
Chapter Four
Bile rose and this time, there was absolutely no stopping it. I stumbled back to the trees, where I was completely and violently ill.
Aiden followed me over and handed me a handkerchief once I’d finished. “You’d better stay—”
“No.” I grimly wiped my mouth then tucked the handkerchief into my pocket. I’d no doubt need it again, even if I had nothing left in my stomach to bring back up. “There’s magic involved in this somewhere. You won’t see it, but I will.”
Which didn’t mean I’d be able to do anything about it—especially if my hunch was wrong and the magic used here was connected to the dark witch.
He hesitated, his gaze sweeping me in concern, and he then stepped to one side and motioned me to lead the way.
I cautiously approached the body. It was a raw and red mess of muscle, but there was surprisingly little blood considering what had been— A leg twitched. Horror crashed through me again and my eyes went wide.
He was alive.
Despite losing his pelt from nose to tail. Despite the agony and shock being stripped would have caused. Despite the brightly plumed dart that was sticking out of his right flank, which I suspected might be made of silver. The precious metal was not only poisonous to wolves, but it also kept them locked in whatever form they were in.
Aiden swore rapidly and put an urgent call out for the paramedics.
I swallowed bile yet again and studied the ground around the red form. There was no hint of major magic here—no pentagram, no circle, nothing to indicate any sort of spell had been used in this gruesome deed.
And yet the fading caress of magic remained.
I forced myself to step closer, but kept my gaze down rather than on the dying wolf. The ground was stony, so held no footprints, and there was no evidence of any sort of struggle. This wolf had apparently just quietly lain here while he was skinned.
Unless, of course, the magic was the reason behind his lack of action. But to find out one way or another, I’d have to go even closer than I already was, and I couldn’t do that just yet. And it wasn’t just a natural aversion to getting any nearer, but the simple fact that I needed to find the source of the fading magic first. To do anything else would be foolhardy, given we had no idea if this foul deed was also some sort of trap.
The heartbeat in the watch died. The wolf was finally free from his ungodly agony.
His soul rose from his remains, sparkling brightly in the evening sunshine. Though it held even less substance than a ghost, it was obvious they’d hunted and killed a young man, not an old one—but why? What had this wolf done to deserve such a fate?
His soul didn’t stop, didn’t pause, which meant this brutal death had been his destiny. Otherwise, he would have been bound to this place—to this dam—for eternity.
I briefly closed my eyes against the sting of tears that were a combination of both anger and relief, and sent a prayer after him, wishing him a longer life and cleaner death the next time.
“He’s dead,” I said, the minute Aiden got off the phone
.
“Which is not surprising, considering what’s been done.”
I rubbed my arms. “Has anything like this ever happened before?”
“Not on this reservation.”
I glanced at him sharply. “But it has happened on other reservations?”
“Not in Victoria, and certainly not for a while.” He flicked his phone’s camera on and began recording. “About ten years ago there was a series of murders across five reservations—the two in Western Australia, one of the two reservations in Queensland, and those in South Australia and Northern Territory.”
“How many deaths in all?”
“Twenty-one. Those behind the atrocity were never caught.”
“So we could be dealing with the same people.”
“Or a copycat.” He moved to the other side. “I’ll have to request the reports from that period to see if there are any similarities.”
“But why on earth would anyone want to skin a werewolf?”
“For the same reason hunters hunt and skin other animals but don’t take the meat—for their pelts.”
I stared at him, unable to believe such a thing was even possible. “But werewolves aren’t animals. They’re human.”
Or rather, a branch of humanity that had, over time, evolved specific DNA adaptions that allowed them to shift effortlessly from one form to another. No one really understood why it had happened, despite the fact that science had been studying werewolf DNA for decades.
“That wasn’t always the case, remember,” he replied, tone grim. “For a long time we were considered an unholy evil delivered straight from the gates of hell itself. In fact, throughout most of the Middle Ages and even some of the early modern period, there were just as many specialized werewolf eradicators as there were vampire.”
“The witch population didn’t exactly have a free and easy time of it throughout that period of history, either, but that hasn’t been the case for centuries now.”
“No, but the pelt industry still lives. It’s just gone unground.”
Horror shivered through me. “So you think this could be the first of many more deaths?”
