Deadly Vows

by Arthur, Keri

  “You can’t stay awake all night, Aiden. Not when you’re working.”

  “I’m not tomorrow—it’s my day off.”

  “But you’re on the following days, so the argument remains.”

  “Which is why I have the bedroll. You’ll know the minute he attacks, and I’ll know the minute you wake in fear.”

  I wanted to wrap my arms around him and hug him, but we were still in the street, and he tended to avoid overt displays of affection when in public.

  “Okay, but I do have a queen bed, so there’s no need—”

  “It’ll be entirely too distracting if we share a bed. Besides, there’s the ‘no sex with boyfriends in the building’ rule you and Belle have going.”

  And with very good reason—neither of us wanted to remember past partners whenever we walked into our bedrooms. We both knew it took far longer for the heartache of a broken relationship to heal when memories echoed.

  But this situation was very different to those others.

  “I’ll accept no arguments on this either,” he added. “So can we please take this inside? Otherwise, those goose bumps of yours will turn into mountains.”

  “Fine.” I turned and headed in. “But the sofa pulls out into a bed, so you can use that.”

  “I’m not entirely sure that old sofa of yours will be more comfortable than the floor.”

  “Then you’d be wrong.”

  I locked the door and followed him across the room. Belle had made us all coffee and stacked a selection of brownies onto a plate. Aiden dumped his bag and sleeping roll onto the nearby table and then pulled out a chair. “So, what were you both doing over at Émigré? You’re not exactly dressed for a night out.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “How did you know we were there?”

  He reached for a salted caramel brownie, a grin twitching his lips. “Jaz mentioned it. She was driving past when you were going in, and wondered if our plans had changed.”

  “You discuss your evening plans with Jaz?”

  “Well, no, but in this reservation, it’s rather hard to keep anything secret. The gossips do like to keep up with current events.”

  I snorted. The gossip brigade, as they were officially known, was a group of twenty-seven women who met at least a couple of times a week to discuss any and all local events. Some months ago they’d decided the Psychic Café would be their main meeting haunt, and while that was good for business, it wasn’t great for keeping secrets.

  “We met a friend there.” The lie tasted a little bitter on my tongue, but I couldn’t admit the truth. He didn’t know Maelle was a vampire, and I’d promised I wouldn’t say anything. I’d rather Aiden be upset with me than her, when the truth did eventually come out.

  He studied me, his expression suggesting he suspected the lie. But then, he’d always been able to do that—one of the many reasons he was such a good ranger. “Why there? Why not here?”

  “Because that’s where she wanted to meet.” I shrugged. “Anyway, said friend is something of an expert when it comes to vampires and other nasties, and gave us some interesting information.”

  Once I’d updated him, he frowned and said, “If I send a team to investigate the local cemeteries tonight, is there anything they can do to protect themselves against this ghoul, if that is what we’re dealing with?”

  “Decapitation was mentioned as one method of killing them, so I think shooting their heads off would probably work.”

  A smile twitched his lips. “And if ‘probably’ doesn’t?”

  “Tell them to carry long knives.”

  “And it might be worthwhile to carry some salt,” Belle added. “Most supernatural beasties hate the stuff. If they’re attacked, they can either throw it or—better yet—use it to form a circle barrier around themselves.”

  “And that will protect them?”

  “It should, as not many supernatural beings will actually cross it.”

  “Good.” Aiden rose and moved to the other side of the room to make his calls.

  Belle sipped her coffee and then said, “I might head over to the storage unit tomorrow and see if I can find anything in the old index books that deals with ghouls.”

  Belle’s grandmother—Nellie—had been the owner of a vast collection of rare and irreplaceable books on magic and the supernatural. Unfortunately, her indexing system was handwritten and tended to be somewhat haphazard, which made it hard to find anything quickly. We were in the process of converting everything over to electronic format, and not just for ease of access or even protection against some sort of disaster. We’d rather belatedly realized that a backup was very necessary in case the High Witch Council ever discovered Belle had inherited Nell’s library—which should, for all intents and purposes, have been gifted to the National Library.

  I wrinkled my nose and reached for a brownie. “I’m not entirely sure that’s a good idea.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “Because Clayton is out there, watching us. The last thing we need to do is bring his attention to the storage unit.”

  She made a frustrated sound. “Good point, but damned inconvenient.”

  “Better to be inconvenienced than have your gran’s books confiscated.”

  “True.” She wrinkled her nose. “I wish there was some damn way to track him.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I think tracking him is the last thing we need to do.”

  Especially when any sort of confrontation was something the sixteen-year-old inner me was still desperate to avoid.

  “Not us, specifically. I’m thinking more along the lines of Monty, Ashworth, and Eli—”

  “I suspect it’s gone well beyond the point of talking sense into him, given what Ashworth said about his fall from grace in recent years. Combine that with the impotency spell—”

  “A spell I will never regret, no matter what he does to us.”

  Even as she said that, trepidation stirred and my gut began to churn. Not for my safety, but rather Belle’s. I put the suddenly tasteless brownie down and said, “Are any of your gran’s spell books upstairs?”

  “Yes—why?”

  “Look through them and see if there’s anything that will protect you against magic.”

  “What’s the point? No spell we create will ever stop Clayton’s magic. He’s just too powerful.”

  “Maybe, but if I wrap wild magic in it, it’ll help.”

  Her frown deepened. “I thought you wanted to avoid any overt displays when it came to wild magic.”

  “I do, and it’s a risk, but I’d rather that than risk losing you.”

  Alarm overtook the confusion. “Do you really think he’d go so far as to hurt me?”

  “The easiest way to stop me is to hurt you, Belle, and he’s well aware of that.”

  Fear, anger, and determination all flashed through her expression. “Then maybe we need to do more than simply talk to him. Maybe what we really need to do is give him no choice but to walk away.”

  I snorted. “And how the hell are we supposed to do that?”

  “Well, he has to be staying in the reservation somewhere, and he certainly won’t be camping out. He’s not the type to go without his luxuries.”

  “True, but—”

  “If we can find him, we can confront him. All of us, together, recording everything that is said and done. Combine that with the truth seeker’s report, and we may just be able to force his agreement to an annulment.”

  “I don’t know.” My voice was uncertain. “It’s a big risk.”

  “Sitting around waiting for him to show us his cards is an even bigger one,” Belle said. “At least this way, we have a fighting chance.”

  “A fighting chance of what?” Aiden said, as he sat back down at the table.

  “We’re talking about Clayton,” Belle said. “I don’t suppose you can abuse your ranger powers and get someone to check if he’s staying within the reservation?”

  “Already doing it,” he said with a smil
e. “But there’s a lot of hotels and B&Bs here, so it will take a few days. I take it you’ve now got a plan of action for when he is found?”

  “Confrontation,” Belle said. “A pack of us—wolves and witches—with the meeting fully recorded on a number of devices.”

  He glanced at me. “I like this plan, but I suspect Liz doesn’t.”

  “I don’t. I can think of too many things that could go wrong.”

  He reached out and caught my hand. “So can I. But no matter what evidence we collect, no matter what Ashworth or this Black Lantern Society does to help you out of the marriage, you will have to face him in the end, Liz. It’s the only way you’ll ever be truly free.”

  “All of which makes absolute sense. But this is something I’ve spent a good part of my life running from. It’s going to be hard to change that habit.”

  And hard to ignore the fear and the memories that would rise the minute I saw him. Memories that might well freeze me in place for too many vital seconds.

  “We have no choice,” Belle said gently. “There’s nowhere else to run. Not anymore.”

  Aiden glanced at her. “Meaning what?”

  “We suspect the wild magic will prevent us leaving.”

  His frown deepened. “But Liz and I leave all the time.”

  “Not permanently.”

  “It’s wild magic we’re talking about here. It’s not like it has any sort of cognizance.”

  “Except that it has since your sister became part of it,” I said.

  Katie’s soul—via a spell so powerful it had literally torn her witch husband apart—might have originally inhabited only the younger of the two wellsprings here in the reservation, but her influence had recently started to cross over.

  “Remember,” Belle added, “Liz is the only means of communication and interaction Katie has with the real world. She won’t support us leaving, because she’d lose that.”

  His expression suggested us leaving permanently wasn’t something he’d support, either, and that warmed me in so many ways. His gaze returned to mine. “Have you actually discussed this with her?”

  “No, but it’s not like I really need to. I’ve used the wild magic—and been in communication with her often enough—to know it’s a foregone conclusion.”

  He grunted. “Well, I admit that I’m not sorry it’s happened. I’m not ready to lose you quite yet.”

  Belle raised an eyebrow, her expression wry. “I take it, then, you will inform us when you are ready to lose her? Because I’ll need to have vast vats of whiskey and a truckload of chocolate ready.”

  Something flashed in his eyes, something that was both acknowledgement of the jibe and anger combined. The latter made no sense, given his oft-repeated warning that he wasn’t into forevers—not with witches, anyway.

  “I’m not the type to simply jump from one partner to another, Belle—even if that partner is a wolf.”

  “Happy to hear that.” She picked up her empty cup and rose. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some transcribing work to do.”

  Aiden watched her leave, then returned his gaze to mine. “I’ve got the feeling she’s a little annoyed at me.”

  “It comes from her overprotective tendencies when it comes to me.” I shrugged. “I have a habit of falling for entirely unsuitable men.”

  “At least you know better than to fall in love with me.”

  My lips twisted, though there was little in the way of amusement. “It’s not always easy to control the heart, Aiden. At least it isn’t for me.”

  Which was as close to an admission as I dared get.

  He didn’t immediately reply, but his conflicting emotions were very visible in his eyes. He wanted me in his life, he obviously cared for me deeply—and perhaps even loved me—but he wasn’t about to admit any of that. Not to me. Not even to himself.

  And for one simple reason.

  When he fell in love, he wanted it to be with someone who could give him what I couldn’t—full-blooded werewolf children. Apparently, any children born from the union of a wolf and a witch had little chance of survival. Those who weren’t stillborn often had such serious defects they died before their first birthday. According to Aiden’s mom, very few lived to claim their wolf heritage, let alone make it to adulthood.

  And while I had no doubt Karleen would do or say anything to prevent a union between her son and me, there’d been no lie in her words. She obviously witnessed someone go through that very situation, and had no intention of watching her son suffer it.

  I picked up my coffee and the remaining brownies and then rose. “Let’s head upstairs. It’s more comfortable.”

  We spent the rest of the night snuggling on the sofa, watching Netflix and talking about anything and everything but the elephant in the room that was our feelings.

  Belle was right—I was going to be an utter mess when we did eventually break up. But there was no chance in hell I’d change the situation, even if I could.

  As that old saying went, it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

  And I did damn love the man.

  * * *

  Aiden didn’t head back to his own place in the morning, instead staying to help us out. Which was just as well, as we were swamped midmorning with customers and Penny was all but run off her feet. Once the café was closed, I sent Belle upstairs to read through her gran’s books while he cleaned up and I caught up on the prep. It was close to dusk when his phone rang. He leaned a hip against the counter to answer and, after a slight pause, stiffened. “Have you called Monty?”

  “I don’t think Monty’s back from Melbourne,” I murmured.

  He glanced at me, one eyebrow raised in question. I nodded and silently added to Belle, Looks like I’m standing in for Monty again.

  I do like how he calls on you rather than Ashworth in these situations, Belle said. Ashworth is the more logical choice, given his history working for the Regional Witch Association and the fact he subbed in the position before Monty arrived.

  I think he likes my face better than Ashworth’s.

  Belle snorted. That is a certainty.

  I grinned and walked into the reading room to grab my backpack, then followed Aiden outside. The truck’s lights flashed as he clicked the remote, and we quickly climbed inside.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, as he reversed out and then headed for the street. “Has there been another murder?”

  He looked right and left before pulling out onto the street with lights and sirens on. “No, but they were certainly newly married. The creature ran after they defended themselves.”

  “If we’re dealing with a ghoul, I’m surprised.”

  “The woman threw salt at it.”

  Wise woman. “So I’m along for the ride because your rangers weren’t able to track it via scent?”

  “They can, but I told them to wait until we got there.”

  I frowned. “Why? Salt obviously works, and they’re armed besides.”

  “Except this thing appears to be something other than a ghoul.”

  My frown deepened. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because,” he said, his voice flat, “this one had huge, bat-like wings, only half a torso, and intestines that trailed along behind it like streamers.”

  Chapter Five

  The description matched the fragile memories I’d caught in the last victim’s mind. Even so, I had to ask, “Are you sure the couple weren’t drunk?”

  “According to Jaz, no. And they have pictures of this thing.”

  “Most people would be a screaming mess after seeing something like that.”

  “Apparently, she watches a lot of those ghost hunter type shows.”

  I snorted. “I suspect there wouldn’t be many ghost hunting shows highlighting that sort of spirit.”

  A smile briefly flirted with his lips. “Does the description of this thing match anything you’ve seen or read about?”

  “No, but it�
�s not like I had any reason to study the supernatural before I came to this place.”

  He grunted. “If we manage to track it tonight, will you be able to deal with it?”

  I couldn’t help a smile. “Unknown, given I have no idea what we’re dealing with. But if you wanted certainty in that regard, you should have called in Ashworth.”

  “I would have, but he and Eli are off the reservation tonight.”

  I glanced at him. “How do you know that?”

  “Gossip.”

  I chuckled softly. “Well, if we do track it down, I’ll do my best to deal with it. But if worse comes to worst and it runs, I’ll throw a tracking spell. If it is some variation of ghoul, it’ll go to ground for the day. That’ll give us time to find and kill it.”

  He nodded and didn’t say anything else. Several kilometers out of Castle Rock, he turned onto a dirt road and sped up a slight incline. The building on the top of the hill was another small, whitewashed cottage with a red tin roof and red-painted door. The veranda out the front was large enough to hold a rough-hewn table and two bench seats, and no doubt had a magnificent view over the valley.

  All the lights were on inside, and there were three vehicles parked to the right. The first was a black Mercedes SUV that probably belonged to the couple who’d reported the incident, but the others were ranger vehicles.

  Mac—a brown-haired wolf who’d transferred into the reservation a few years ago—stepped out onto the veranda as we pulled up.

  I slung my pack over my shoulder and followed Aiden.

  Mac gave me a nod of greeting and then said, “The creature tried to enter via the rear glass doors.”

  Aiden motioned him to lead the way. “It seems to be developing a pattern.”

  “Well, I guess glass doors would be somewhat easier to break into, given the lack of legs.” His tone hinted at amusement. “The doors weren’t forced open, though.”

  “That suggests they weren’t even locked.”

  Mac glanced at me over his shoulder. “They weren’t, but the creature didn’t get far, as the salt was thrown before it could attack. I guess it was lucky they’d been eating dinner and the shaker was already out on the table.”