Hunter Hunted

by Arthur, Keri

  “Have you googled black teapots? It might actually be the name of the shop.”

  “Of course I haven’t—and when has anything been that simple?”

  She smiled, grabbed both plates, and then rose. “Never, but that doesn’t mean things can’t change.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen to dump the plates then grabbed her phone and came back to the table. After a few minutes, she wrinkled her nose and said, “Well, you were right. It’s not that simple.”

  “Try the dancing teapot instead.”

  She typed that in and then shook her head. “It’s got to be some sort of clue, though, however cryptic. Your dreams might generally be ambiguous, but they usually do hold some grains of truth.”

  Usually being the telling word there. I drank more coffee. “Ashworth might have more luck finding her. I did get a vague impression of the witch from the thread we found on the first victim—enough to give him a general description, anyway.”

  “It’s certainly worth a shot.” She downed her coffee and then rose. “I’ll grab first shower.”

  I followed her upstairs and googled a bit more for any witch shops that related in any vague way to teapots. Again, there was nothing.

  Once I’d showered, I headed downstairs to help Belle do the day’s prep. We opened at nine and were super busy all day—a good thing given it kept me thinking about Aiden and what he might do over the next couple of days. Or, rather, what I wouldn’t be doing.

  We closed at three, gave our staff a bottle of champagne as a thank you, and let them leave early. It was close to six by the time Belle and I had finished clearing and cleaning. Belle grabbed a couple of glasses and another bottle of champagne while I washed the strawberries then followed her across the room to a table.

  She popped the cork and filled the glasses. I dropped a couple of strawberries in each, and then picked one up. “Merry Christmas, my friend. May the goddess continue to bless our lives—”

  “With health and happiness.” She touched her glass against mine. “So, are we soloing tonight or going out together? Because I discovered Émigré is open all night despite the fact it’s Christmas Eve.”

  Émigré was an extremely popular, alien-themed nightclub that had recently opened within the reservation, and one that was owned and run Maelle Defour—a very old, very powerful vampire. While the council was well aware of her presence, Aiden and his rangers were not. Maelle was currently in our debt thanks to the fact that we’d tracked down the people responsible for murdering several of her “feeders”—the men and women who supplied her with both blood and sex in return for a very luxurious lifestyle.

  Those killers were now dead. While Maelle had kept her promise to the council not to cause any harm within the reservation, both Molly Brown and her brother had disappeared while being transported down to Melbourne for trial.

  I had no idea how Maelle had arranged that; I only knew Molly’s and Jack’s deaths would have been agony itself. It was never a good idea to double-cross a vampire, but Maelle Defour wasn’t any old vampire. In addition to her age and power, she was also one hell of a scary bitch who walked the edge between remaining human and becoming something else.

  None of which would stop us from going to her establishment, if only because there really wasn’t anything else like it in Castle Rock. Or, in fact, the entire reservation.

  I took a drink and then said, “I’m guessing your vote lies with Émigré?”

  “Indeed. I’m feeling the need to rub shoulders with a hot man or two.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.”

  Surprise ran across her expression. “I was expecting at least a moment of hesitation.”

  “Why?” I asked mildly. “If he’s going to enjoy two and a half nights of alcohol and sex, I can’t see why I shouldn’t have a little fun.”

  “You say that, and yet your thoughts seethe at the idea of him getting it on with another.”

  “I figure enough alcohol will more than drown them out.” I grinned. “Which is not saying I’m about to fall into the arms of the nearest good-looking male and shag him senseless. But I don’t want Aiden thinking I’m willing to hang about and wait, either.”

  “Even though you did wait ages for the man to ask you out.”

  “That is beside the point.”

  She snorted but any reply she might have made was cut off as my phone rang. The tone told me it was Aiden. I jumped up and ran behind the counter to grab it.

  Belle filled up her glass then said, “I’ll head upstairs to get ready, and leave you to chat with the man in peace.”

  I nodded then hit the answer button. “Hey, how was your day?”

  “Long,” he replied. “And about to get longer.”

  I frowned at the edge in his voice. “Shouldn’t you be finished work by now?”

  “I’m head ranger—the job technically never finishes. Especially when there’s bad news to be delivered.”

  I hesitated, and then said, “I take it you’ve identified the skinning victim?”

  “Yeah—Jamison O’Connor. He was barely twenty.”

  “I’m sorry, Aiden.” I paused again. “Did you know him well?”

  “Not well, given the age gap, but he was a good friend of Michael’s.”

  Michael being one of his younger brothers. “Had anyone reported him missing?”

  “No. But we found his car parked on Byrne’s Road—one of the many small tracks that run along the edges of our compound. His clothes, wallet, and shoes were all neatly stacked on the front seat.”

  I frowned. Werewolves didn’t actually need to strip off when they changed. While their ability to shift shape was a DNA adaption, there was still magic in their souls—magic that not only hid the shift from one form to another, but somehow also took care of whatever items they might be wearing or carrying. “Why would he do that?”

  “We have no idea. And given the fact he took the time to fold his clothes, it’s not likely he was under any sort of duress at the time.”

  No, but he could have been under some sort of spell. Just because I hadn’t sensed anything other than tracking magic on that thread didn’t mean the bracelet, as a whole, couldn’t have been entwined with multiple spells. They were easy enough to do—all you needed was to place each spell on a different piece of twine or ribbon, and then weave them all together.

  “It could be worth getting Ashworth to have a look at both his car and his personal items before you hand them back to his parents. There might be enough magical residue left behind for him to get some idea of the witch who made the charm.” Or, at the very least, what sort of spell was being used.

  “Once we’ve finished going over the car, we will.” He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Confronting parents with this sort of news would have to be the hardest damn part of my job.”

  “Especially on Christmas Eve, and the start of a major celebration for all three packs.”

  “Yes.” He paused. “Speaking of which—”

  “I shouldn’t expect to see you for the next couple of days,” I replied. “I know.”

  “It’s a tradition, and, as the firstborn child of one of the packs’ alphas, I’m expected—”

  “Aiden, you don’t have to explain anything to me. We’re both free agents, and you certainly don’t owe me anything.” The words came out surprisingly even considering how much my stomach was suddenly twisting.

  There was a rather lengthy pause. “Right.”

  I suddenly wished we were doing this face-to-face rather than over the phone. Wished I could get a feel for what he was thinking and feeling.

  “What are you and Belle planning to do over the next couple of days?”

  “Probably just rest up after partying tonight. We’re heading over to Émigré to dance the night away.” I hesitated, waiting once again for a reaction. The silence stretched for several seconds before I added, “Did Chester and Ashworth make it to the morgue this afternoon to identify the witch’s body
?”

  “Yes.” His voice once again held the hint of an edge. I wasn’t entirely sure whether it was aimed at the two witches or at me, and that was frustrating. “Chester believes our corpse is Jonathan Ashworth, who went rogue when he was nineteen, which was some thirty-five years ago. He’s asked Ciara to send DNA and blood samples to Canberra for confirmation.”

  “I take it Jonathan is on their most wanted list?”

  “Yes, but not in the top ten, as far as I can ascertain. Chester is playing his cards pretty close.”

  Chester, I suspected, didn’t want to make any more mistakes. Missing that last spell and almost getting himself and Ashworth killed would have been something of an embarrassment—and blueblood witches didn’t do embarrassment at all well. “Did he have any theories as to why our dead witch stepped out of a fully functioning protection circle and allowed himself to be shot?”

  “He undoubtedly has them, but he’s not as yet sharing those, either.”

  “So the investigation is on hold until we get confirmation as to who the dead witch is?”

  “Basically, yes.” He paused. “Enjoy your night out, Liz, and Happy Christmas.”

  “You too, Aiden. I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  And with that, he hung up. I blew out a frustrated breath, cursed my errant hormones for setting their sights on a damn wolf, and then headed upstairs to get ready.

  Émigré itself was surprisingly packed. The music was loud, the alcohol cheap, and there were plenty of men and women as intent on having a good time as we were.

  To say we spent the remainder of the night partying hard would be something of an understatement. We didn’t often get a chance to blow off steam—for a good portion of the last twelve years we’d alternated between working in cafés and running them. With the weekend work and the long hours, it had basically put paid to most of our out-of-hours activities.

  Dawn was sending tentative wisps of pink and yellow across the sky by the time we left. We caught a cab back to the café and staggered across to the door, our shoes in our hands and an arm slung around each other as we happily sang a Christmas carol at the tops of our voices. Thankfully, we were in no danger of disturbing anyone, as this area of Castle Rock was basically retail.

  It took me three goes to get the key in the lock, despite the fact I’d stopped drinking alcohol several hours ago. But as I pushed the door open, energy stirred around me. Wild magic, filled with anxious urgency.

  I swore, a sound swiftly echoed by Belle.

  “Seriously, could you not give us Christmas Day?”

  She was talking to the wild magic rather than me. The energy stirred again, more urgently this time. I tossed my shoes inside and thrust a hand through my somewhat sweaty hair. Neither of us were in a fit state to drive, and I really didn’t want to call Aiden.

  “Ashworth,” Belle suggested. “He knows about the wild magic and unless he’s a solo partier—and I don’t believe he is—he should be sober. Plus, he’s aware of your link with the wild magic and Chester isn’t—beyond what he’s sensed in the magic protecting this place, at any rate.”

  “Unless Ashworth has mentioned it.”

  “I don’t think he would.”

  I grunted and grabbed my phone out of my purse. The phone rang seven or eight times before a gruff, grumpy voice said, “Do you have any idea what time of the fucking morning it is?”

  “Yes, I do. But the wild magic apparently doesn’t care about such things.”

  “What?” Ashworth’s tone was suddenly more alert. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean it’s here and it wants me to follow it, but I can’t drive because I’ve had far too much—”

  “I get the picture,” he cut in. “Be there in ten.”

  I hung up. Belle was behind the counter, filling up the kettle we kept under the bench for those times we couldn’t be bothered turning on the machine to make ourselves a coffee.

  “You go upstairs and change. I’ll do a detox brew.”

  I snorted. “It’s going to take more than one brew to get the alcohol out of my system.”

  “Yes, but I’ll add clarity herbs, which will at least help the brain power. Go.”

  I gripped the handrail and quickly hauled my butt upstairs. Jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers were quickly thrown on, but the pulsing energy of the wild magic was becoming more desperate.

  I stumbled back down the stairs. Belle handed me a cup of coffee that smelled faintly of licorice—a herb often used to boost energy levels—and the backpack. She was carrying a second cup—one that smelled like straight coffee.

  The sunrise had gathered strength in our brief time inside, but her golden flags were now tinged with a bloody red and I seriously hoped it wasn’t an omen of what we were about to find.

  Ashworth’s old truck came roaring around the corner and slid to stop in front of our café. Belle opened the passenger door, handing Ashworth his coffee before stepping aside to let me in.

  “Keep in contact,” she said. “And be careful.”

  “Always.”

  She slammed the door shut and then stepped back. I shoved my coffee mug into the center console’s cup holder and pulled on the seat belt.

  “Where to?” Ashworth’s voice was only a little less gruff than before. He’d pulled on old track pants and weather-beaten runners, but he was still wearing what looked to be a pajama top.

  I hesitated as the wild magic gathered around me. It was so damn thick I could barely breathe, but while it held a sense of awareness and purpose thanks to the woman whose spirit now controlled it, there was no clear sense direction coming from her. Unless....

  I glanced at Ashworth. “The only way I’m going to get a clear sense of direction is if I make direct contact with the wild magic.”

  He frowned. “I know the magic in this place has an odd sort of cognizance, but I wouldn’t have thought it was capable of any sort of communication—”

  “Technically, it’s not. I’m going to draw it into my body, and let it guide me that way.”

  His frown deepened. “That’s damn dangerous—”

  “Yeah, but I’ve done it before, and it’s the only way we’re going to get to whatever it is it’s trying to show us.”

  He studied me through narrowed eyes for a second and then nodded. “Do it.”

  Belle, can you monitor me? If things get dangerous, pull me out. While I’d certainly drawn the wild magic into my body before, I’d never consciously given it any sort of control, even though I’d briefly shared Katie’s senses when she was helping me hunt down the man who’d bombed our café. I doubted she, in any way, would want to cause me harm, but there was nevertheless always a risk inviting another into your body.

  But no spirit or power, no matter how strong, could ever break the bond between Belle and me. We knew that from experience.

  Will do.

  I took a deep breath in an attempt to ease the gathering tension, and then closed my eyes and reached out for the wild magic that sat thick and heavy all around me. Come to me.

  She did. Swiftly, and with such force that for a moment it felt as if it would tear me apart. The wild magic was a white-hot energy that thrummed through my muscles and veins, and everything around me suddenly seemed brighter—sharper. I could smell the somewhat stale pine remnants of Ashworth’s aftershave, hear the steady pounding of his heart, and feel the caress of the aircon on my skin as sharply as a gale. Katie’s natural werewolf capabilities were once again sharpening mine, despite the fact she was little more than a soul within energy.

  But that soul gave me a clear path to follow. And then she fled.

  It still left me weak and shuddering. I took a deep breath that did little to help, and said, “Head for Luna.”

  He threw the truck into gear and immediately took off. I picked up my coffee cup and tried to ignore the fact my hands were shaking so badly little waves of dark brown were washing up through the drinking hole. I
sipped the waves away; the coffee was strong and tart, tasting of licorice and a multitude of other herbs I couldn’t name. But at least it was drinkable, and that was a vast improvement over many of Belle’s brews. It didn’t immediately ease the ache behind my eyes, but it did at least help calm the somewhat scattered pounding of my pulse.

  Once Ashworth was on the highway out of Castle Rock, he gave me a long, somewhat wary look. “What is it between you and the wild magic? Most of us can sense it, but I’ve never witnessed the sort of interaction you’ve got with it—not without disastrous consequences, anyway.”

  I knew all about those consequences—my mother, despite the fact she was one of a handful of the most powerful witches in Canberra, had almost died the one and only time she’d tried to redirect wild magic. Or so I’d been told—I hadn’t actually been born at the time.

  “I honestly don’t know why this connection has formed. It’s not like it should, given I’m not even a highly powered witch.”

  He grunted but didn’t say anything, undoubtedly because we’d been over this ground more than once before, and I couldn’t in any way provide the answers he was seeking.

  Besides, if there had been more to my powers, it surely would have been picked up sometime over the sixteen years I’d been in Canberra. It hadn’t, simply because there was nothing more to me. Nothing other than a merging between my powers and Belle’s—and that seemed to have happened after we’d run.

  “Did the magic give you any idea what we’re going to find at Luna?”

  “No. Just that we need to get there quickly.”

  He grunted. “Luna’s a reservation border town—I wonder if that’s got anything to do with it?”

  “I don’t know.” I hesitated. “But the body of the skinned wolf we found was right on another border, so it’s possible.”

  He glanced at me again. “How did you find that wolf? Aiden wasn’t exactly forthcoming with details.”

  I snorted. “And this surprises you why?”

  He grunted, a sound that weirdly held an edge of amusement. “Our head ranger is a closed-mouth bastard at the best of times, but given he wanted us to examine a thread he’d found on the body, I would have expected a little more cooperation.”