But even if I had wanted to call him, it’d take them at least an hour and a half to get to Argyle—where Aiden and I lived—and by that time, whatever I was sensing might have disappeared. Though in truth, past experience with the various evil entities who’d found their way into this place suggested that was unlikely.
I did—for all of one second—think about ringing the ranger station. Despite the full moon, there would be someone assigned to hold the fort and take emergency calls. Aiden had done more than his fair share in recent months, preferring to be with me rather than his pack—or rather, his interfering fucking mother—but tonight the moon’s pull had been too fierce for him to ignore.
Because destiny waits in the moon’s cold light. The soft reply echoed lightly through my mind. Even a wolf with a will of iron cannot ignore her forever. His choice lies before him.
The voice belonged to Katie, Aiden’s deceased sister. Her soul—and the ghost of her witch husband, Gabe—now inhabited and protected the reservation’s second wellspring. As my connection with the wild magic had grown and strengthened, so too had my connection to her. Up until recently, it had taken a luminous thread of wild magic wrapped around my wrist for the two of us to converse. That was no longer the case—the wild magic just had to be in the area. Which it was—the moonlit, ethereal threads were floating across the dark waters of the lake.
Does that mean Mia is already here?
It does not.
There was something in her soft answer that stirred trepidation. If she’s not here already, why is he being given a choice tonight?
You shall see soon enough.
Katie …
I cannot give answers to what I cannot see.
That’s avoidance, and we both know it.
Her laughter washed through my mind, warm and oddly encouraging. You, of all people, should know how restricted second sight can be and just how damn frustrating that is.
Does that mean when you do know something more, you’ll tell me?
Perhaps, she replied, her voice growing distant as the threads moved away. And perhaps not.
Annoyance rose, but I tamped it down. I might be her voice and her weapon in this reservation, but Aiden was her brother. It was natural her loyalties would in the end be with him, even if she didn’t always approve of his choices in life.
Thankfully, she did approve of me. It would have been awkward if she hadn’t.
I jumped into the Suzi and slowly drove past the other five houses in the lakeside complex. Once on the main road, I flattened my foot and headed out of town. The moonlight silvered the landscape and, though storm clouds occasionally dimmed her light, it was currently so bright the headlights really only became necessary whenever the highway swept through a forest.
I slowed once I reached the outskirts of Guildford, then wound down the window and stuck out my hand. The moon’s cold energy caressed my fingers even as the inner wild magic stirred. The tug of evil came from the right, from deep within the hills that made up part of the state forest, and an area that contained lots of old mines and diggings—something I knew from experience, having fallen down one of them. Thankfully, Aiden had been with me that time, and had saved both our lives by not only finding something to latch onto as we’d both dropped but also by one-handedly catching me.
I turned right at the pub and drove on. When I reached a T-intersection, I stopped and studied my options while I waited for the psychic tug to kick in again.
It sent me right, but it was so faint now it was little more than a flicker. I didn’t know whether that meant evil was moving away or if it had done whatever it had come here to do. At least I wasn’t getting anything to suggest the latter was a definite possibility; it would certainly be a rather nice change if one of these excursions didn’t end in the discovery of death.
The road gently climbed for several kilometers and then swept through a number of gullies and past an old cemetery. I was rather relieved that the tug of evil didn’t have me stopping at the latter. While cemeteries didn’t as a rule scare me, there were many tales of the dead coming to life under the light and power of a blue moon. However unlikely it was that that’s what was happening here, I had no desire to tempt fate and find myself confronted by a vengeful ghost or even a zombie. Been there, done that, and—particularly in the case of the zombie—had no desire to ever repeat the experience.
I drove through a small hamlet of houses, all of them dark and showing little sign of life. No surprise, given it was close to one by now and any sensible person would be tucked up in bed.
The road continued on, and the trees grew thicker, cutting out the moon’s wash of power. I neared another intersection high up near the ridge and slowed, looking left before turning right. I continued on to the top and then down into a valley that was scrub on one side and moon-washed farmland on the other.
Then, without warning, that wisp of evil sharpened.
I hit the brakes so hard the tires squealed. As the sound echoed across the silent night, my gaze was drawn to the left. In amongst the trees were a number of caravans. One had a lean-to attached, suggesting it might be in use, but the others looked empty. That impression might not be accurate, of course, given the hour.
At the very edge of the camping area, off to the right of the old dirt road that led into it, was a small brick building with a water tank attached. Toilet and washing facilities, no doubt.
I scanned the area one more time and then turned in. The headlights pierced the shadows and, just for an instant, I saw something white moving through the trees.
My heart began to beat a lot faster. I had no idea what that flash was—it had moved out of sight far too quickly—but I had no doubt it was the thing I’d been sensing.
I parked close to the building, then picked up my phone and climbed out. It was starting to drizzle, and the moonlight wasn’t piercing the thick foliage of the surrounding trees, leaving much of the immediate surroundings layered in darkness. There was no hint of evil teasing the air, so perhaps the flash had been nothing more than the breeze stirring a plastic bag to life … but the psychic part of my soul simply said no.
I hastily shoved on my coat and hat, and then grabbed the backpack—which not only contained my silver knife but an assortment of potions, as well as holy water—from the back seat and slung it over my shoulder. Then, after a quick look around the nearby camping area, I switched on the phone’s flashlight and headed off. While the light would give away my position to anyone watching, I wasn’t about to go traipsing through the dark in an area well known for its many mineshafts. My eyesight had certainly sharpened over the last few weeks, but I felt more comfortable relying on a good old-fashioned light.
I trudged on for a good fifteen minutes, following a very faint path in the forest, before I spotted something in the mud between a rock and a wave of leaf litter. I squatted down and moved the light closer. It was a footprint, human rather than animal, and almost skeletal in appearance.
Goose bumps shivered across my skin, though I wasn’t entirely sure why when it was likely the maker of this print simply had skinny feet. Of course, he or she was walking around barefoot, which did imply a certain amount of … well, not insanity but at least eccentricity. I mean, it was damnably cold and wet out here.
The other possibility was the print belonged to a werewolf. They did tend to run lean, and everything I’d heard about moon runs said they generally stripped off first. It might explain not only why this person was running around barefoot but also why I’d seen a flash of white. The O’Connors’ compound was the closest to this spot, and they were silver wolves who ran the color gamut from an almost bleached blond to a muddy, brownish silver.